Sweet Dreams
by BlondeAmbition25
Summary: Dr. Emma Avery is the head of Psychiatric Research at Arkham Asylum. When an arrogant new Doctor takes over a vacancy, the lines between dreams, nightmares, and reality become blurred as Emma uncovers more about herself and the inner workings of the demented Doctor's mind. Rated M for mature language and adult content. Reviews encouraged
1. Chapter 1: Sweet Dreams

_A little background, I actually started this story years ago, and originally had a few chapters posted on . During some routine cleaning I stumbled across it, and after getting into Peaky Blinders, found a renewed smitten for dear Cillian Murphy. As a result, I dusted this bad boy off, changed some things around, and am getting right back into it. Set as taking place prior to Batman Begins. Hope you enjoy, I'm having a great time re-writing and adding to this one._

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own Cillian Murphy, Christopher Nolan, or anything Batman. I do own Emma Avery. This writing is for fun, smutty, entertainment purposes only, and no profit is being made.**_

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Emma Avery woke up to the sound of her horrid alarm. Set more in antiquated habits, she still used a large digital alarm clock rather than a cell phone, which seemed to be becoming the norm. She mused that maybe her preference was due to the way she could half-hazardly smack the snooze, or see bright red numbers display what time it was when she woke up in sleepless fits throughout the night. The caveat was waking up to that awful screeching, like a cicada on acid, walking into a fire.

The weather had just started to cool down as the life of summer slowly began to die into a beautiful array of colors, the nip in the air making it even harder for her to get out of bed. Still, Emma managed to pull herself from the warmth of the covers and begin to prepare for the day. As soon as a cup of coffee was steaming and in hand, she stood on her balcony and took in the sights and sounds of fall in the city, colorful leaves from the trees in the park nearby, the smoky smell of a fireplace burning, the old man urinating on the side of the street…well maybe not that last part.

Emma's life was routine and uneventful, and a part of her relished those qualities. Each morning she woke and performed the same choreography, get up, get coffee, stand on the balcony and drink said coffee for approximately 10 minutes, style hair, put on makeup, put on dress pants or dress in black, gray, or a combination of both, and usually a turtleneck or blouse in a solid color. Most days Emma wore a simple pair of semi rimless glasses, but when she was feeling a little bolder her contacts. Today was no exception to the gloriously predictable routine.

Another side of her, however, buried beneath the surface, yearned for some adventure or excitement. Maybe a periodic moment of truly getting to feel alive and not just destined to play the same monotonous part over and over again. Today, Emma felt a bit of this yearning, more specifically in her love life. Despite every effort to make the most of her humanity by seeking out a higher education and a profession analyzing people and coming up with new chemical formulations for a living, she was still utterly and undeniably human. Hormonal fluctuations had her particularly itching for a scratch of a man's touch, extra energy pooling into her intimate places and demanding to be addressed. As she grabbed her keys to leave, she cursed the distraction, and the way the seam of her pants seemed to be making it even worse with each step.

The car ride into work was no different than any other day, the first fifteen minutes getting out of Gotham were hell, but once she hit the outskirts of town it was smooth sailing. In no time flat, the city structures began to taper and fade away in favor of shrubbery and twisting trees. Crossing over the bridge to Arkham Island was a breeze because, let's face it, not many people were clamoring to get into that place. The road grew more and more desolate as Emma finally approached the ominous black gates. An armed guard approached her silver Honda as she obligingly pulled out and displayed a white plastic identification badge. Emma looked out onto the property as she drove in and supposed it was somewhat eerie, the dawn of day creeping up behind the gothic towers and main buildings of the asylum. Her marveling was cut short however, as she reached the parking lot at the employee entrance and noticed an unusual vehicle in the spot next to her own. A vintage Jag, though she wasn't sure of the year, black with silver detailing, it stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the cars in the staff lot, especially her humble Honda. While she had no knowledge so far of who it belonged to, she already was annoyed with him or her.

"Hmm," she thought aloud, "they must have finally filled Dr. Miller's spot."

Emma's black heels gently clip clopped against the concrete as she walked up the stairs to the grand entrance, briefcase slowly swinging at her side. She passed through the second set of tall wooden doors and quickly said good morning to the security guard and the receptionist at the front desk before scurrying through the metal detector in the main hall, and swiping her id card to gain access to the main floor. A corridor adorned with carved woodwork, baroque paintings, and busts led the way to the main offices, including Emma's own.

Coffee. The thought popped into her head after depositing her personal items, and continuing to note how totally off this entire day felt so far. Figuring perhaps some additional fuel would get things moving in the right direction, she grabbed her black steel Contigo before heading to the staff breakroom, the bitter rich smell of cheap coffee already permeating through the air. The breakroom also featured deep red hues and intricate woodwork, but rather than a desk it had a small carved wood table and chairs, in addition to a sink, refrigerator, and of course a coffee maker. As she entered, Emma was surprised to see a man she didn't recognize wearing a crisp black suit with dark slightly curling hair shaking the last couple drops out of the pot into a curved black mug. He suddenly realized she was there and turned around. Wow. Emma was mesmerized by his eyes, the bluest eyes she could ever recall seeing, and for longer than a moment she inadvertently was staring at him in what was becoming awkward.

"Terrific, we're out of coffee you mind making another batch?" The stranger broke the silence, sounding annoyed as he offered the empty pot her direction, and the look on his face clearly matched. Emma paused for a moment perplexed by his question, finally putting the pieces together as she realized he was expecting her to make coffee for him. Her blood started to boil, and she mused to herself what kind of gall this man had. He shook the empty pot at her in impatience and raised his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Helllllo? Are you awake Miss? We need another batch." Just who did this asshole think he was, she thought to herself, crossing her arms and taking a wide stance.

"It's Doctor. Doctor Avery." So, it appeared this guy was fulfilling the stereotype of arrogant prick disorder, a side effect of most PhDs and anyone else who spent more than four years in college without having failed a class. Emma has seen her fair share of them, but nonetheless was always infuriated when she had to deal with one. He looked her over for a second, considering her in his head. He narrowed his eyes slightly before raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"E.S. Avery? I've read your work. I always imagined you…well…as a man" He chuckled a little to himself, only making himself appear all the more arrogant.

"Most _men_ do." Emma gave him a side, polite-but-still-shit-eating smile.

"And who might you be? I'm assuming you're here to replace Dr. Miller?"

"You _assume_ correctly, I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane." She'd heard the name before, but it took her a second to place where. In her head, she recalled a few articles she had read, they were interesting and well thought out, but completely in opposition to her own thoughts on the subject matter.

"Dr. Crane. Hm. I read your piece in the Journal of Experimental Psychology on the influence of fear in psychosis."

"Oh yes, what did you think?" He gave a proud grin and waited for a response, like a dog waiting for a bone, unfortunately for him, he would have to deal with disappointment.

"Honestly, I found it presumptuous and naïve." His smile faded, and Emma laughed inside of her head at having effectively shoved him off of the high horse he came riding in on. He clenched his jaw.

"Would you care to elaborate?" Having taken the power position in the conversation, Emma decided to keep playing the game and milk it, looking down at her watch, and then back up to offer the most condescending smile she could muster.

"Sadly Dr. Crane I have an 8:00 appointment, although I would love to discuss the topic further with you later. I'm sure you can find my office, it's the door that says 'Head of Psychiatric Research' on it." He was so flustered he just stood with his mouth open like it was expecting to spit out a witty remark that just wouldn't come. Emma walked away with a big smile on her face, reveling in winning her first of what would surely be many battles. It was however very disappointing that Dr. Miller, who had been a very beloved colleague and resource, was replaced by this big bag of dicks. It was equally disappointing that she still had no coffee.

The rest of the day wasn't as eventful, and somehow Emma was able to avoid another encounter with the new Doctor. She spent the morning meeting with administration members and patients, and the other half in the lab. Arkham's lab facilities were located in a segregated and quiet area of the West Wing, and while she enjoyed helping her patients, or at least feeling like she was, days like today where her head felt all over the place, she preferred the solitude and logical routine in the lab. It was quiet, formulaic, and it gave her a little room for creativity.

The lack of windows, however, made it very easy to lose track of time, and as she typed a few notes into her laptop, she realized it was already 7:00 in the evening. With only one last test left to do, she decided to continue, adding a few grams of lithium to a flask and gentling swirling it.

" _ **Working late are we Doctor?**_ " a voice came from behind her, and gasping in surprise, Emma dropped the test tube she had still been holding, sending it shattering onto the gray coated floor.

" _ **I'm sorry Doctor, did I frighten you?**_ " the voice seemed to purr into her ear. She turned around, regaining composure to meet the eyes of the pompous former professor himself, Dr. Crane.

"No, just startled me." She grabbed a Chem-wipe from the lab bench and bent down to clean the shards of broken test tube from the floor.

" _ **What are you working on, that's so important to stay overtime?**_ " He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, furrowing his eyebrows as if to study her.

"A mild sedative, combined with an antidepressant. My goal is to allow the patient to fall into a sweet dreamlike state to calm them from intense episodes." Emma spoke proudly, pleased with her diligent work, as she continued to clean up the mess and finish up on her second flask.

"Interesting…" Crane mused next to her. She finished cleaning up the pieces and distributed them into the nearby trashcan, catching a glimpse down the hallway exposed by the door Crane had opened at one of the few windows the floor had, cursing to herself that it was already pitch black. While most would likely find a mental asylum to be a frightening place at all hours, Emma was really only bothered by it in the night hours, when even through the bright lights in the yards, one couldn't be certain someone wasn't following behind. She entered in a few last notes and slammed her laptop shut, quickly gathering her belongings into a black leather shoulder bag.

"Interesting, but still not perfected. Hence the overtime. I really have to run though Crane." He seemingly blocked her path, so she had no choice but to brush up against him to get through, a chill running through her body at the contact, more so when she felt his hand grab her by the arm.

"Emma." It seemed he had taken the effort to learn her actual name, and she looked up to the ceiling with mild annoyance, taking a short breath before turning to oblige him with a response. His hand loosened and he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for my behavior this morning." She could still see his face in the sterile fluorescent lighting. He was lying. He was being nice because he wanted something, there wasn't an iota of a sign of genuine remorse. Emma always had a gift for reading people, it was part of her motivation to go into psychology, and his insincerity made her question what his motives were.

"You don't have to lie, but thanks for offering. And I'd prefer it if you called me Doctor Avery," She spun on her heels with one hand in her lab coat, the other gripping her bag, and walked out of the room.

"Goodnight Doctor Crane!" She shouted as she went through the hallway. Yeah. Goodnight indeed.

As Emma went to her car again, she saw his perfect Jag. _He would have a car like that. One word: overcompensating._ The better question, she thought, was how in the hell could he afford a car like that anyway? It had to be vintage, and in that condition? Bruce Wayne maybe, but not a psychiatrist. She shook her head and got into her car, driving away and never looking back.

Emma woke up in the dark, and couldn't move. She begged her legs to start working but they wouldn't budge an inch. Her arms, however, would at least allow her to crawl slowly. Hands caressing the cold, gray, rubbery smooth floor. Laughing echoed all around and she furiously tried to crawl faster. A hand grabbed her and flipped her over onto her back, a knee on either side of her torso holding her in place.

It was Crane. She knew it was Crane. His smell was distinct: a combination of rich piney wood and a hint of his black leather desk chair. Warm air tickled her right ear, followed by a sudden delicate flick of wet warmth from his tongue.

" _ **Tell me, DOCTOR, what is it that YOU fear?**_ " His words were loud and deep, drenched with sarcasm. She tried to scream but his mouth was suddenly on her own, like he was trying to breathe her into him, his tongue firm, yet soft, probing her mouth. His hand started at her cheek, and slowly it ran down the rest of her body until it stopped between her legs. Everything felt like it was on fire and coherent thought no longer came to her enough to try to escape. Silently, she wished his hand would work down further where she was desperate to be touched.

" _ **I think…**_ " he stopped everything.

" _ **you fear…**_ " his mouth was at hers again

" _ **RELEASE**_ " he bit her bottom lip hard and she screamed.

Emma woke up in bed suddenly and looked at the clock. 6 AM. Her chest was heaving up and down and her skin and pajamas were damp with sweat. It was time to get up anyway, so she opted to turn off her alarm and head to the bathroom, body still aroused, overall flush with the faint feeling of moisture between her legs.

She rubbed her face a few times to try and snap out of it, but noticed a smear of red on her hand and immediately looked up in the mirror to see where it was coming from.

"Huh" she mused out loud. Her lower lip was bleeding.


	2. Chapter 2: The Missing Notebook

The dream haunted Emma through the entire drive to work, it had been so vivid she could have sworn it was real. Glancing at the passing landscape, she kept trying to shake it out of her head, but it kept creeping back in. _It just…it felt so…real_. Granted, it had seemed like ages since the last time she felt the touch of a man, surely she thought, this was just a sign she needed to tear herself away from work for awhile and actually get laid.

Her thoughts went back to Crane and she contemplated if perhaps she had been a bit too quick to judge him. While he seemed to have some misogynistic tendencies, he did have a great wealth of information from his time as a Professor, in addition to his great many published works, even if she didn't agree with all of his assumptions. Emma supposed he had taken the time to seek her out and apologize to her, so perhaps they got off on the wrong foot and it was worth trying to make some sort of amends. Who knew, if she could look past some of his arrogance, he may even prove to be a valuable ally and resource.

The day started off pretty much the same as the day before. Emma went to her office, checked messages, and after about an hour realized she was going to need some coffee if she was ever going to get through the morning. The dark circles under her eyes from the tumultuous night of sleep made her look somewhat like a racoon, and the makeup wasn't doing a stellar job of hiding it. She took her cup back to her desk, had a few sips, and then took a patient file to look over in the library.

The library was conveniently located in the mansion with most of the staff offices. One had to weave through a few corridors before reaching a set of ornately carved double doors at the entrance. The facility was stocked; not only were there rows upon rows of some of the best reference books available, but also files from every case to ever enter through the facility. With the file under her arm, she walked to a nearby desk and sat down. Tired head resting on one of her hands, she flipped through the stapled pages in between sips of coffee. It was one of her patients, Kevin Johnson. He had a particularly horrific case of anxiety and depression. After a winning combination of both psychotherapy and medication, she had managed to get him into safe territory. Still, she wanted to review over his file and see if she could manage to give him the last push he needed to get out of this place and make it on his own. Light footsteps echoed off of the high ceilings from one of the guards. The guard on duty today was Bill, a portly fellow with graying hair and a bald spot on the back of his head that his hat only half covered up. Bill had been on the staff at Arkham now for at least 30 years, and his face showed it. Emma couldn't imagine how anyone could stand being in this place for that long, dealing with the breakouts. At the end though, she supposed money was money, and when you were in need of it you were willing to put up with a lot to get it.

"Good morning Doctor Avery. Everything going well?"

"Just fine Bill thank you," she looked up and smiled at the guard as he passed. A mere moment had passed in the quiet solitude of the nearly vacant library when Emma saw someone enter the room out of her peripheral vision. She knew it was Crane before narrowing her vision to confirm it, and reluctantly decided she ought to be friendly as a result of her mental dialogue this morning on the way in.

"Good morning Doctor Crane. Are you feeling more comfortable here yet?" He smiled slightly as he gazed up at the ceiling.

"I've felt comfortable here the moment I walked in the doors…" he said dreamily.

"Listen…" she went on in a soft and somewhat smooth voice.

"…Jonathan" He interjected, hands in his pockets, coming closer.

"Yes, Jonathan. I apologize for my rashness yesterday, I've been a bit…on edge lately. As I'm sure you know, as a fellow researcher, it can be quite frustrating when you just can't seem to find what you need"

"Hmmm. Frustrated, from the research. Sure." He chuckled lightly. Emma felt the tightness of anger creep up again, here she was stooping to reach out to him, new to the facility, and he was making arrogant jokes at her expense.

"Is something funny?"

" _ **My, my doctor, you look horrible. Did you have a rough night?**_ " He cocked his eyebrow and chuckled some more. She slammed the file shut.

"Yesterday, you asked me to elaborate on my opinion of your article." The chuckling stopped and his brows furrowed. His jaw muscles bulged out as he clenched his teeth.

" _ **And?**_ "

"And, I think you are naïve because you left out an entire piece to the puzzle. You focus only on external stimuli and fail to address the internal factors at play."

" _ **Perhaps, but external factors trigger a greater response…**_ " he said matter-of-factly.

"Are you so sure? Why don't you talk to someone with PTSD. Their fear is no longer in front of their face, but burned into their memories. Take this case." She held the file as she stood up.

"This patient was so afraid of his dead father's abuse that he was willing to try to end his life to make the fear go away. We all fear something Crane. Even if we can't see it."

" _ **Well, I've done trials of my own. While I haven't had a clear success yet, I'm willing to bet I could make a believer out of you. Someday**_." He pressed his lips together. Her eyes went directly towards those beautiful, plump lips. The lips that haunted her dreams and that she wished would shut the hell up. His handsomeness just added to the annoyance.

" _ **Speaking of trials Ms. Avery**_ "

" _Doctor_ " She corrected with clenched teeth, closing her eyes in irritation.

" _ **Of course**_ " Crane said mockingly.

" _ **Your trials, how have they been going? You haven't made any of your case files public yet**_."

"I like to keep my work confidential until I have FACTS Doctor Crane." Emma looked up and stared him right in his bright blue beautiful eyes…she got lost for a second, they were so clear…flashes jumped in her head from her dream, his hands, his lips, his kiss…

"Emma, Emma…EMMA!"

"What?" she shook her head for a second

"Are you alright, your eyes started glazing over for a second."

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine! Here" Emma picked up a reference book on PTSD and slammed it against his chest

"Maybe you could learn something. Unless…you're too AFRAID of being wrong." Once again she left him bewildered, stomping back to her office, hands shaking with anger. _Why is he affecting me like this?_ He wasn't the first arrogant doctor she had met, and was certain he wouldn't be the last, but something was different, got up under her skin. She walked into her office and closed the door behind, collapsing into her chair and slamming her head down on the large stained oak desk.

Emma came home exhausted after another late night in the lab. She rifled through her mail as she opened the door to her apartment, noting nothing exciting: bills, some journals she had subscribed to, and a wedding invitation from her cousin. Quickly kicking off her shoes, she shrugged her jacket and set it on one of the kitchen table chairs. After flipping on the television, she opened up the refrigerator and scouted out some leftovers, which were promptly heated up in the microwave and taken to eat on the couch.

The space was somewhat humble, a standard kitchenette set to the side with adequate counterspace, a small area for a high top breakfast table, and an attached living area with enough space for a couch, lounge chair, and television. A balcony with a tremendous view from the 13th floor dwelling was just off the living area, essentially a giant window looking out to the Gotham skyline. Emma's bedroom was down a small hallway, with a linen closet, laundry area, and a standard sized bathroom. It was high enough up that she didn't have to worry about the sounds of the city at all times of the night, but a good enough location where one could still enjoy view.

Once dinner was done and cleaned up, Emma treated herself to a hot bubble bath, enjoying the way the hot water soothed her muscles after a long day hunched over the lab bench. Once she dried off, her hair was hastily tied back and she threw on a pair of comfortable flannel pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt. But, even though the day was coming to an end, she couldn't help but find herself ready to work again. For this reason, she kept a notebook on her nightstand to jot any notes or ideas for her projects or cases.

Snuggling into the covers she reached over to grab for it, only to find it suspiciously missing.

"That can't be right, I never move it," she muttered to herself. Becoming somewhat frantic, she began to look under the bed, in the closet, in the kitchen, on the couch, searching every inch for a sign of the notebook. It was nowhere to be found. Suddenly, she remembered a few times when the old battered notebook was shoved into her briefcase, and assumed if it was obviously nowhere in the apartment, it must be back in her office somewhere. At this point, she was far too tired to worry much, and decided she would settle for writing on a spare notepad and then going to bed. 


	3. Chapter 3: Just One Couldn't Hurt

The next day, Emma still found no trace of the notebook in her briefcase or the office, and it was somewhat troublesome. It contained not only her formulas but some of her personal thoughts and poetry as well, but she still suspected with the close watch she had over it, it was surely just buried in a corner somewhere and would turn up in due time. It still bothered her like an itch that was just out of reach, but there were too many other things to worry about than her silly notebook.

Emma was in the middle of typing up some notes on one of her patients for her files when she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in, it's open." She said loudly, still typing, pushing a strand of golden blonde hair behind her ear. As the door creaked open she peaked around to see who it was and then rolled her eyes behind her computer screen.

"Good morning Doctor Crane, what can I do for you?" He put a hand in his pockets and then casually strolled around her office, running his fingers along her bookshelf and examining the titles there, along with her certifications and awards.

"Would you care to join me for lunch? My treat." Emma sighed and shut her laptop closed, shrugging her shoulders and giving a small smile.

"Sure, who am I to pass up a free meal?"

"Shall we, unless you're in the middle of something?" He raised his eyebrows and placed the other hand in his pocket, rocking slowly from heel to toe.

"Nothing that can't wait an hour or so," she grabbed her coat and black bag from the back of her chair and noticed he was holding the door open for her. Blushing ever so subtly, she gave him a small nod of gratitude and then proceeded down the hall to the parking lot. Crane scuttled to catch up and walk in stride with her.

"What sounds good?" He asked dryly.

"If you're treating I'll leave that decision to you." Emma was intrigued to see what his selection was, it likely would reveal a little of his personality and intention. Once again they reached the exit and he held the door open for her. Crane shuffled into his suit pocket until he pulled out a key and unlocked the car door, she moved to approach and he held his hand out to stop her, unlocking it inside of the vehicle and then walking around to hold it open for her.

"That's really not necessary you know, although I appreciate the gesture."

"I insist, I was taught manners for a reason, so few seem to honor them anymore." As he started the engine and shifted the car into reverse, Emma ran her hands along the classic black interior, which she recognized was in excellent condition for a classic car like a Jag.

"This is a pretty nice car for someone who's been on University payroll." She said suspiciously, Crane merely stared straight ahead and coldly responded.

"Inheritance." It was a lie, again, she could read it in his face.

"Well, it's beautiful regardless."

"Thank you, it's very fun to drive."

"What else do you do for fun Doctor Crane?" Emma was starting to enjoy herself a bit, the psychologist in her seeping out, the joy in trying to figure out a new person, put the pieces together to get some kind of understanding. He looked over at her and gave a small knowing smirk.

"Nice approach, I'll indulge you. Let's see, what do I do for fun…" He lifted his eyebrows and laughed to himself a bit, as if there was an inside joke he kept secret.

"Well, I guess you could say I enjoy simpler and finer things. A drive in this car, for example. A nice glass of wine and a good book. The opera."

"The quintessential PhD." She muttered as she looked out the window, Gotham's towering buildings coming in to sight.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that." He laughed to himself, it sounded happy, something new and suiting to him.

"And what about you?" He glanced over again, the hint of something conniving in his eye, rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip.

"Me? Mostly work, but I like to run when I have time for it, binge watch television shows and see new movies. Science fiction and mysteries are my favorites. Reading when I have the focus for it. Writing to clear my head."

"Escape from reality?"

"I guess in essence that's the point of entertainment, isn't it?" They arrived at their destination, and Crane parked the vehicle expertly in the street. It appeared to be a small French bistro, off the beaten path, but situated on a quiet intersection.

"After you." Again he held door open for her and then reached to take her coat as they met the maître de. He was a thin man with slicked back brown hair, wearing a pressed white shirt and black pants.

"Ah, Doctor Crane, what a pleasure! Your usual table I take it?"

"Please."

"One of your regular jaunts?" Emma whispered next to him as they were led by a sharply dressed waiter to a small table with a view.

"You might say that." The waiter sat them and quickly went over the lunch specials before leaving them to review the menu. Emma looked over the menu and began to shift nervously in her chair, the menu was entirely in French. A word or two she recognized, but otherwise she hadn't a clue. Jonathan looked up at her from his menu.

"You don't know French, do you?" He asked her with an upturned smile, already knowing the answer to the question.

"No, hardly anything." Emma said looking out the window and taking a sip of water.

"Don't worry I'll order you something good, I promise." She could have sworn his chest puffed out a bit as he made the comment, perhaps that had been his whole reason for taking her here, to feel superior. Intrigued she decided to push further and see if she could elicit the same positive response.

"You speak French?"

"Fluently. I also speak German, Mandarin, and Arabic." His smile spread wide as he listed the languages, confirming her conjecture.

"Arabic? That seems somewhat uncommon." Jonathan paused for a second, squinting his eyes shut, carefully crafting a response in his head.

"It became necessary during my extensive research on fear, ancient texts and it being so difficult to secure a fulltime interpreter."

"Ah." He looked up at her, his black hair draped beautifully along his cheekbones, his blue eyes sending a chill through her, and she felt a stirring deep inside, becoming aware of growing moisture between her legs. She broke the eye contact and placed her napkin on the plate.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Jonathan smirked and nodded in approval as she went off to find the ladies room.

"Get a grip Avery, Jesus Christ, you're not a horny teenager anymore." After pulling herself together and straightening up, she headed back to the table, where some slices of baguette and butter had been set out. Crane nibbled on a piece, with one leg cross on top of the other, a smug expression resting on his face.

"So, Emma, where is your apartment?"

"Midtown, you?" She reached out to the basket and grabbed a piece of her own, delicately smearing it with butter.

"Diamond District." Emma nearly spit out the bread as he spoke, having to pick up her napkin to dab residue from her mouth.

"Diamond District? That must be some inheritance!" Crane shrugged, dabbing his face with his napkin and folding his hands in front of him on the table.

"Interesting, what led you here to Gotham"

"A higher purpose."

"I'll say, PhD at 21? That's pretty impressive." The compliment was genuine, even if it meant she had given him an unnecessary ego boost. He offered her a proud smirk, motioning his hands up in the air.

"One of the few to ever do so. I wish I could say it was difficult, but, it wasn't. Especially with the imbeciles teaching the classes, it's absolutely demeaning to have to take exams written by Professors with a mediocre understanding of the subject matter."

"So you taught yourself to make up for it?"

"I taught to allow me to do research, the majority of my students were imbeciles, I might as well have been trying to teach advanced psychology to trained monkeys."

"That seems a little harsh, surely there were some promising young students?"

"Yes, I suppose there were a few above the rest. You?"

"I was never a fan of teaching myself, but it was a necessity to get my doctorate. As soon as I met all the criteria I went to work here."

"How old are you again?"

"30"

"Funny, you don't look a day over 20"

"I get that a lot."

"Where are you from?" Crane's jaw clenched in frustration and he avoided the question.

" _ **Enough small talk, I'd like to hear more of your thoughts on my article.**_ " His voice changed tone, darker somehow, more serious.

"I thought I made them pretty clear yesterday. I, respectfully, disagree that internal factors play no role in the matter." Emma bit the inside of her cheek, trying to remain civil.

" _ **External factors, I think,**_ " he began to trail his foot underneath the table up the inside of her leg, " _ **play a large part in eliciting any kind of a reaction.**_ " Emma was taken completely off guard by the move, but was enjoying the sensation enough to permit it to continue. He leaned in closer across the small table, his piercing eyes taking up her view, looking down at the table he subtly licked his bottom lip and then looked back up at her.

" _ **If used properly, an external stimulus can certainly manifest a desired emotion.**_ " His foot slowly traveled back down and broke contact.

" _ **In this case, fear.**_ " Clearly shaken, Emma cleared her throat and took a sip of water.

"And, as I said before, I'm not disagreeing with that. However. Internal stimuli can certainly elicit emotion as well, at times producing a stronger reaction in themselves. Your demeanor noticeably changed when I mentioned your hometown, and your response about your inheritance has been curt. I gather that you had a sordid childhood, and the memory inside of you is enough to elicit an emotional change of its own." Now she took the chance to lean in closer to him, seeing his eyebrows furrow as she stroked her bottom lip with her thumb and licked a falling droplet of water from the outside of her glass, his breath hitching at the sight.

"Tell me I'm wrong." Her voice took on its own confidently playful tone, and she settled back into her chair, smirking having bested him at his own game. Luckily the waiter arrived just in time to break the tension.

"Bon Appetit" he extended, leaving each plate steaming in front of them. Crane had ordered what looked like seabass and some vegetables with a sauce drizzled on the top. In front of her looked like a steak and French fries.

"I hope you like it, I figured it was a safe option if you've never dabbled in French cuisine." Emma took a bite and savored the rich flavor.

"It's delicious, thank you." They ate primarily in silence until each had essentially cleared their plates. Crane payed the check and steepled his hands under his chin, each of them simply staring at one another without any conversation. They remained that way as they went to leave and he held up her coat for her to put on, and still as he opened the car door for her.

" _ **Are you seeing anyone?**_ " He asked coldly, breaking the silence as they drove out of the city and back into the clutches of Arkham.

"That's a pretty personal question to ask." For a second Emma considered refusing to answer, but she basically had already shared enough with him to put the pieces together. She decided to answer it in a roundabout way so as not to debase herself more than necessary.

"I told you my hobbies, you've seen me already working late in the lab, I'm sure you can reach a conclusion on your own." Dr. Crane pulled off to a scenic overlook, killing the engine.

"What are you doing, we've already been gone for an hour?" She barely had any time to ask the question before he unbuckled his seat belt and was on her, his mouth capturing hers in a strong and needy kiss, and without thinking twice her hands wrapped into his silky black hair and gently tugged, making him growl against her. He nipped lightly at the spot where her neck met her shoulders, and she moaned embarrassingly loud at the sensation. His smell was everywhere, sophisticated, leather, spices, a hint of whiskey, utterly masculine and bewitching. _**STOP**_ her mind shouted at her and she was able to push strongly against his chest until he was removed. The look in his eye was different, animalistic, harsh.

"Dr. Crane, I make it a point not to get involved with colleagues."

" _ **What's the matter Doctor, don't like to shit where you eat?**_ " His voice was deeper and it sent vibrations to her core.

"Uh, yes, I guess you could put it that way."

" _ **Oh come on, just one fuck couldn't hurt.**_ " She slapped him sharply across the face, and it looked as though he came back to himself as he pulled back and sat back in the driver's seat, turning the key to start the ignition and driving back.

"You know, I honestly was thinking you may actually be a decent human being, but it seems you've proven me wrong. Touche." He sighed to himself as they entered back into the parking lot, and she kept her arms folded defensively across her chest. She quickly existed the car as soon as he parked it, slamming the door shut, making it halfway up the steps before turning back around.

"Thanks for lunch asshole." His face remained cold and his eyes were cast downwards, she marched back up the steps and went back to her office in a huff. 


	4. Chapter 4: External Stimuli

A week had passed and she had luckily avoided interacting with Crane since the lunch incident. Emma sat in a therapy room with Kevin. He was in his early thirties and had sandy brown hair and brown eyes. He worked construction and had the minor lines in his face and tan skin that came with working outside everyday. Kevin was the type of guy you would picture drinking a few beers and playing with his small children on a Saturday in the front yard of a modest home.

But Kevin had never had that life. Instead, he had never had a normal relationship and had lived a solitary life, battling with his inner turmoil on a daily basis.

"So Kevin, how are you feeling today?"

"I feel great doc. I haven't felt this good since as long as I can remember"

"You seem good. Have there been any side effects since the last time we spoke?"

"No, nothing I can think of" He scratched his head for a second, looked up and smiled as he shook his head no.

"I think I'm ready doc. I think I'm ready to go back out there. I feel like I can do it, on my own, finally." Emma's insides warmed up, this was her favorite part of the job.

"I think you're ready too, Kevin. We just need another week to double check that you've stabilized, and then we can move you out and meet once a week for awhile to make sure you're okay." Kevin got up and walked over to her, she was a bit surprised when he grabbed her in a bear-like hug.

"Thank you Doctor Avery. You gave me my life back."

Emma left the room with warm fuzzies. Days like this made her remember why she had chosen this job. Days like this made her forget about the screaming, and the setbacks, and the deaths. The ever elusive "breakthrough". Her happiness nearly burst out of her chest, and she felt a big smile on her face as she looked down at her feet and walked. When she looked up she found herself bumping square into the chest of Jonathan Crane. Clumsily, she righted herself and straightened out her skirt.

"Jonathan, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." Emma noticed her glasses were tilted on her face and awkwardly righted them. Crane chuckled to himself.

"Not a problem Doctor, I managed to save my coffee. Your, uh," he motioned across his chest with the side of his hand

"What?"

" _ **Your brassiere is showing**_ " he said bluntly. Dr. Avery immediately adjusted her shirt and turned scarlet red.

" _ **Black, hmm, I wonder what else you have hidden away in there…**_ " He mused as he tilted his head. Emma made a sound of disgust.

"Things you will NEVER know. Today is too good of a day Doctor Crane, for even you to ruin" she cheerily told him and breezed past him to head back to her desk. It was another lovely fall day outside, and Emma decided she would uncharacteristically leave a little early today so she could take a short run along the lake.

There was a path that ran right on the outskirts of Arkham Island, and it was perfect. A few of the other staff liked to jog on it, but mostly it was rarely traveled on. Like the rest of the island, the landscaping was pristine. Emma stopped at a waterfront point and twirled a leaf in her hand as she took in all of the sights and smells of fall in Gotham.

As she got closer to the asylum, she noticed there was an open area of grass right along the water. Since it wasn't so cold out, she put her jacket down on the ground and lay out with her hands behind her head. Her long hair was down for the day, but pushed out of her face for the run with a large fabric headband, and it whipped around her in the gentle breeze. While it gently caressed her face, her eyes closed shut and she felt herself drifting to sleep. Suddenly though, it seemed that the brushing of the wind was turning into the feeling of hands.

" _ **Shh, Emma. It's alright, go back to sleep**_." Crane's voice said, as if talking to a child. She opened her eyes and spun around.

"What are you doing?" He stood up and the world around began to morph. Emma found herself at the edge of the water. Crane's towering figure came closer and she took a step back and fell into the dark waters of the lake. Hands desperately grasped for solid ground and she struggled to climb out but something was holding onto her feet and pulling her down. The face of Jonathan Crane peered down smugly, distorted by the surface of the water, just out of reach.

" _ **These things happen**_ " his muffled voice said as the world around her started to go black.

Emma flew up from the ground gasping for air. Brought back to reality, she was on the grassy opening and the sun was starting to go down. Desperate not to be caught in the dark, she gathered up her jacket and high tailed it back to the parking lot.

The nightmares were beginning to wear on her. The past two nights she had gotten less than five hours of sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was some warped perception of reality, and Crane was always there. The worst part was that he was getting this grin on his face on the rare occasions she ran into him, making her think he knew…but how could he? Emma was really starting to get concerned about her notebook too, practically having turned both her apartment and office upside-down looking for it, and it was nowhere to be found.

Emma had just finished working a 12 hour day, and was desperate to get some sleep. Deciding to try a different approach to her poor sleep cycles, she found herself stopping at a liquor store on her way home from work. Not being much of a drinker, she opted for a simple and sweet wine that would be palatable to imbibe without cringing.

After a quick hot shower, she poured herself a generous glass full of the white wine, taking large sips and she watched some syndicated sitcoms. Nearly an episode in, she already felt her eyelids growing heavier, and they would barely stay open. As soon as she washed up she found herself falling quickly asleep as soon as her head hit the mattress.

She lay sprawled on her stomach, in her underwear, across her queen-sized bed. It was a cool, fall night, so the windows had been left cracked open to let in a cool breeze. Waking up slightly, she let out a yawn and curled back up to fall asleep again, her body shivering slightly, realizing the covers had fallen off of her. Eyes still half closed, she reached down to pull them up again but her hand found nothing. A low sinister laugh crept around, and Emma's eyes snapped open. The room was empty and dark, and Crane's face peered up from the far end of the bed frame. He hopped up onto the mattress and slowly crawled his way closer.

"What do you want Jonathan." She tried to be as calm and commanding as possible, but her voice was wavering. By this time he had made his way next to her, and propped his head up with one of his arms. Protectively, she clutched the one sheet she had close to her body, as if it would really do any good.

" _ **Oh Emma, you know exactly what I want**_ " he ran his finger along the fitted sheet, but looked up at her with icy blue eyes and no sign of humor in his face. His hand grabbed Emma by the throat and forced her down onto her back.

"I don't know what you're talking about, just tell me" she said frantically.

" _ **Everyone is saying what good results you've been getting. It's the formula, Doctor. I need to know the formula.**_ " His grip tightened.

"It's not done yet. And even if it was, I would never put it in the hands of such a psychopath!" He squeezed tighter and she began to cough. Without warning, he engulfed her with a kiss, his hands frantically surveying every inch of her body that was exposed to him. Reluctantly, Emma decided if she was going to keep having these nightmares, she might as well get some kind of enjoyment out of them. With authority she flipped him over so she was on top, and began tracing the side of his neck with her tongue. He tasted sweet and salty, and she nipped him on the soft skin of his collar bone eliciting a guttural moan from the back of his throat. He sat up and put an arm behind her back, smoothly flipping her again so he was back in control. With a strong hand, he pinned both of hers behind her head.

" _ **Always needing to be in control, huh Doctor?**_ _**I'd love to show you my mask.**_ "

Emma stared up at him and he looked like a fallen angel. His blue eyes were clouded with desire, and his plump lips were swollen. His shirt was unbuttoned and revealed translucent skin underneath, while his nearly black hair fell in slight curls around him. And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. The blackness slowly began to dissolve back into her bedroom and she sat up.

"Typical, once one of them finally starts getting good, I wake up." She slowly got up and walked to her kitchen to get a little bit more wine to hopefully lull her back to sleep. The bottle was in the refrigerator where she left it, but upon pulling it out and uncorking it, she realized there was nothing left. That couldn't be right. She stood in her skivvies trying to trace back how much she'd had…only one or two glasses. There was no way she could have finished the whole bottle. There were only two explanations: Emma was going crazy, or someone had been in her apartment.

* * *

In a tongue in cheek fashion, the Arkham staff held an annual Halloween Party in the Mansion. The Gothic décor set the perfect ambiance for the night, and the staff chose it as a kind of joke on the department, that they dealt with dangerous criminals and severe mental illness on a daily basis, so why not celebrate Halloween in the very location said crazies were treated. Various portable bars were set up in the main lobby, the catering staff dressed like zombies. Emma's costume was somewhat simple, a medieval maiden, with a long flowing gown, a gold crown, and jewelry. To top it off, she also had a golden chalice she decided to drink her beverages from for the night. Purple and orange lighting was set up strategically through the hall to add to the eerie atmosphere, and off in the corner a DJ played popular music, the bass shaking the walls.

Awkwardly sipping, Emma was relieved to spot a friendly face among the crowd. A young woman with olive skin, dark almond eyes, and almost black brown hair appeared in the distance, the visual antithesis to Emma. Debbie Zane, head of clerical staff, in a tight fitted referee costume that emphasized every voluptuous curve she possessed, one couldn't help but be mildly jealous of her beauty. Emma gave a big smile and waved as Debbie's face lit up in acknowledgement, and she threw her arms up and swayed to the music as she made her way over.

"Ems, you look great!" Debbie grabbed her by the hands and extended her arms out to get a glimpse at the entire outfit.

"You do too, I'm sure more than one doctor will be hoping for you to blow your whistle his way tonight…" Debbie rolled her eyes at looked down to the floor with a scandalous smile before she looked back up.

"Actually, I don't know if you've met the new orderly Dave yet…"

"No, I don't think I have," Emma said mischievously. Debbie scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Ugh there's Crane." Out of the corner of her eye, Emma spotted the Doctor, in his usual attire, and unfortunately made eye contact.

"Great, it looks like he's headed this way, maybe if we ignore him he'll bother someone else. Hey I heard a couple people say the two of you went off to lunch with each other a couple weeks ago…?" Debbie's face indicated her disapproval and Emma smiled and shook her head.

"Uh, yeah it was nothing, business related." Crane made his way up the steps and walked up to the two of them, looking Debbie up and down with disapproval on his face.

"Ah Ms. Zane is it? What an interesting costume, leaves very little to the imagination doesn't it." Debbie turned behind her where only Emma could see, rolled her eyes, and walked away.

"Happy Halloween Doctor Crane!" She spat sarcastically as she left Emma to fend for herself.

"You know, at least she bothered to come in costume"

" _ **Oh no Doctor, I can assure you, I am in costume.**_ " His voice was dark and deep again, and his tone was not something she cared to stick around and be reminded of.

"Sure, whatever you say."

"Emma," she started walking away from him.

"Doctor Avery?" Frozen in her tracks, satisfied he addressed her properly, she turned around to him.

"Yes?" She asked sarcastically.

"The other week, I was, totally out of line. I, regret my behavior was so crass. I'll be honest with you. I'm horrible at these things, will you be merciful and engage me in a halfway intelligent conversation?" Her face fell a bit, perhaps her warmer side getting the better of her.

"IF you let me borrow 3 of your first edition Sherlock Holmes novels, then sure."

"Consider it done."

"So, intelligent conversation as we stand in a hall blaring bad techno music, full of costumed halfway inebriated attendees, with hundreds of mentally unstable individuals in the nearby viscinity. Where to start?"

"Well I would venture to guess there are at least a handful past halfway inebriated, and a decent amount of mentally unstable individuals in the immediate viscinity."

"You know, your sarcasm is mildly entertaining, but only mildly."

"Halloween is always fascinating, from a technical standpoint. One's choice in costume reveals a great truth about them. Take Debbie for example," Emma looked over to her as she subtly placed her hand on the muscular arm of the new orderly Dave, running a hand subconsciously through her loose curls of hair and letting out an over the top laugh.

"Clearly self-conscious, defaulting to an overt display of sexuality to try to prove her worth." Crane leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"And"

"Obviously trying to get laid tonight."

"So a confident woman who is proud to show off her, might I add, kickass body and is trying to get her sexual desires met, must be self-conscious?" Emma's voice was incredulous.

"Yes."

"So what does my costume reveal about me then, in your _professional opinion_?"

"You imagine yourself to be a queen, but deep down you yearn for times of the past when a man could come and rescue you." Emma nearly spit the punch she was drinking from her chalice and burst out laughing. As time went on, she couldn't decide whether to be infuriated with him or just amused by his obvious lack of social skills. After the third drink, she honestly didn't care anymore, her mind throwing the annoyances to the side as it simply got hypnotized by his piercing blue eyes.

"Well, seeing as how you are wearing no costume at all, in my professional opinion, you are living a double life, the question is, which one is the real you? The one I see before me, or the one you are hiding?" She excitedly continued and he closed his lips into a straight line.

"Maybe both!" She cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured off into space with her chalice, before taking another sip.

"So, now that we've effectively dressed down one another, would you care to dance?"

"Dance?" Now that was a question she was not expecting him of all people to ask, the surprise in her voice clearly failing to mask doubt in his abilities.

"I was forced through cotillion in my hometown, I can assure you I'm quite good." Emma set her chalice down with a hearty clang and took his hand.

"Well let's find out then, shall we?" He led her onto the dance floor and placed a hand at her waist while holding the other to lead her across the dance floor.

" _ **I was wondering if you might share more with me about your research**_."

"You really don't give up do you?"

"And as I've already told you, it's not to a point where I would like to share it, so let's move on." He leaned her back with arms steady as his finger trailed down to play across the neckline by her cleavage. He expertly spun her around and then pulled her back close to him, his body rigid and his posture perfect as he smoothly glided through the movements. Hand drifting down to rest at her lower back, in a still and powerful movement he forced her body closer to his, enough to feel the warmth and every cut of his body. Emma's head felt dizzy from the feel of him and the liquor she had consumed, her wits still about her, but the feeling and want were taking over, the capacity for logical decision making cascading off to the side.

"You certainly dance with passion" she muttered under her breath.

" _ **I can't help myself**_ ". His response seemed cold and passive, completely devoid of emotion, and it seemed almost premeditated. Emma pushed back against him and looked into his eyes, and there was something terribly alarming staring back that she couldn't quite place, something predatory. A hand grabbed the side of her thigh and slowly trailed it up higher to her hip, the sensation was intoxicating and she found herself desperately hoping he would make contact between her legs, ignorant to the public arena they were in.

"Maybe Debbie isn't the only one trying to get laid." He said darkly into her ear.

"You have normal human tendencies? I would have never guessed." She realized her voice sounded dazed, hypnotized.

"I've seen the way you look at me, I know the ins and outs of body language, you want it too." She saw the lust clouding his eyes, the smell of him intoxicating her, the warmth of his body mixing with the warmth put off by her own. She was sick of sleepless and frustrating nights alone, she was sick of the banter, work rules be damned, she needed this.

"God damnit Crane, enough games. Why don't we get out of here," he looked down at her, brows narrowed and lips smirking as they moved in for a kiss. She pulled back.

"Not here." The loud music and dark lighting allowed them to sneak out into one of the side hallways unnoticed, and once they were out of sight he roughly pushed her against the wall of the corridor and snaked a hand under the long skirt of her dress stroking forcefully on her thigh and pulling it up and around him.

"Oh Jesus, Fuck!" He was oh so close, and she could feel him sizably stiff under his pants, making the anticipation that much more palpable.

" _ **Doctor Avery, tsk tsk, the mouth on you.**_ " He kissed her neck and she shoved him off again, not wanting to get too far ahead of themselves out in the open. Pulling him by the collar she dragged him down the hallway backwards as she kissed him, until they got to her office door. She hastily unlocked it, nearly dropping they key with shaking hands in the process. The look in his eyes was positively possessed, the door closing behind him as he threw off his suit coat with cavalier, rolled up his sleeves, and loosened his tie, not breaking eye contact in the process. Emma's body was on fire, any thought fleeted and her mind was filled with nothing but lustful want for the man before her. Slowly, he approached her until she was backed up against her desk, then he reached down and hoisted her until she was sitting on top of it, an arm on either side of her caging her in. She pulled his glasses off and threw them onto the floor. Swiftly, her long skirt was lifted and bunched up, his finger trailing along the waistband of her panties before one strong finger reached in and began to slide against her. Eyes rolling back in her head she softly moaned out.

" _ **So wet for me Doctor, how long has it been.**_ "

"Too long" she breathily spat out. In a swift motion, he swept the papers off of her desk and pushed her down so her back was flat on it. Continuing to gently stroke, he inserted two of his fingers and stroked her glorious spot while his eyes never left her. It was almost eerie, how he seemed so preoccupied with observing her reaction. Cold and calculating with each ministration, each time he found a spot that released a particularly loud moan he would stay there, increasing the onslaught and then suddenly stopped for several minutes while she whimpered in protest before starting again.

"No more," she gasped "please no more."

" _ **What will you do to make it stop?**_ "

"Anything"

" _ **Anything? Imagine the possibilities dear Doctor Avery, perhaps your feelings on external stimuli have changed?**_ " He abruptly picked her up and carried her over to the side couch, shoving her over the side of one of the arms, unzipping her dress and allowing it to pool at her feet.

"Please, I can't take it anymore, I need it."

" _ **Need?**_ "

"Please, please Jonathan," she gasped in between breaths.

" _ **Not Jonathan, Doctor Crane. Tell me what it is you need.**_ " He growled between clenched teeth, fingers sinking in deeply to the skin at her hips.

"Please Doctor Crane, I need you to fuck me, fuck me until I come." That seemed to be all it took, and within minutes her black lace panties were at her ankles, his unbuckled pants at his, and in one swift stroke he entered her, eliciting an incredible moan of pleasure from both of them. His thrusts were hard and controlled, not gentle, exactly what she needed. It was utterly animalistic as they groaned in the syncopated rhythm of his body slapping against her own, him wrapping her hair around one hand and tugging back as if it were a leash. He bit her shoulder and it stung in the open air, moved up to her neck with his mouth and sucked with his full lips as his arm held her up against him.

" _ **Touch yourself.**_ " He commanded, and she willingly obliged, as he continued to pound himself into her. Emma knew she wouldn't last much longer like this, and as if on cue she felt a pool of energy inside of her begin to grow larger and larger until finally the flame reached the powder keg and she screamed out in sheer pleasure at the explosion. Crane, goaded on by her orgasm, thrusted harder and faster until he released a loud forceful groan of his own and spilled himself into her. She rolled over on the couch to catch her breath, as he began pulling his pants back on.

" _ **Was that so hard?**_ " He grabbed his glasses and placed them back on his face, buttoning up his white shirt and replacing his tie as he looked over at the work he had done on her smugly. She sat up herself, finally coming back to reality, and redressing herself.

"Can you get my zipper please?" He walked over and zipped her up, letting his hands graze back down her body until they rested firmly on her rounded behind grabbing and then abruptly giving a loud smack.

" _ **Until next time Doctor Avery, wouldn't want to have too much of a good thing now would we?**_ " 


	5. Chapter 5: Some of Them Want to Use You

Emma sat in her office on the leather couch, staring at her closed office door, replaying the night's events in her head. Silently, she scolded herself for being so careless, and with a coworker no less, she knew better than that. Still, she thought, it had been good. It had been _really_ good, satisfying, and now she felt a blissful sense of calm. Rubbing her face in her hands, she finally stood up and grabbed her things to go.

For the first time in a long time she slept through the entire night, and woke feeling more refreshed than she could remember. The weekend was seemingly off to a good start, and against her typical routine, Emma decided to have lunch with an old friend. Opting for more cost-effective transport, she took the train into town, to meet Cammie at some new trendy restaurant with an eclectic selection, that she likely would have never ventured to on her own.

The waiter who greeted her looked about 10 years her junior and wore a beanie and tight pants, he motioned over to the side of the room where she immediately spotted her curly brown-haired friend. She'd known Cammie since they were in junior high, getting interested in boys for the first time, and she was probably one of the few people who Emma told everything to. They had formed a bond and stood up to bullies with their quick wit, refusing to let anyone take advantage of them. Growing up together like that meant they had both developed the same no-nonsense attitude and strength. Cammie was dressed very fashionably as usual, she was taller and built larger and more voluptuously than Emma. Her naturally curly brown hair was worn long, her eyes darkly lined in kohl, and she was wearing a printed knee length skirt and tall boots with a black turtleneck. As she arrived at the table, Cammie got up and gave her a big hug, and she leaned into the comfort of her ample bosom.

"Well you look, beaming, what's different?" Cammie said as she sat down, raising an eyebrow her direction. Emma clenched her mouth and shrugged her shoulders, unable to conceal the hint of a smile at her lips.

"AH! You got laid didn't you!" Cammie's eyes brightened up and she nearly shouted it at her. Several other patrons glanced up in curiosity and annoyance their direction, and Emma slunk down in her chair and shielded her face with the menu.

"Cam, keep it down will you? I don't think the old couple in the corner heard." Cammie was undeterred and a huge smile played on her face.

"Spill." She demanded, lacing her fingers together on top of the table.

"Well there's a new Doctor. He's an arrogant ass." Emma took a sip of her water and rolled her eyes at the thought of his attitude.

"Let me guess, you hate fucked him into oblivion didn't you?" Cammie stated bluntly and slightly amused as she gazed over the menu.

"Well, not exactly. Halloween party at work, one too many cocktails, him getting a little friendly on the dance floor…"

"And?"

"And I ended up bent over the couch in my office."

"Hot. Was it good?" Emma covered her face with both of her hands and bent her head over to the top of the table.

"So good. The best I've ever had. It was just raw, uninhibited, primal. That's the worst part." She groaned and slowly slid her hands back down her face, drawing her mouth down in the process.

"Some of the best sex I've ever had is with people I can't stand. Why is that the worst part? Haven't you been having a serious dry spell lately?" Cammie demanded incredulously, clearly amused by the whole situation.

"Because it definitely can't happen again." Emma stated very matter-of-factly, having decided on an entrée and setting the menu off to the side. The waiter arrived with a tray of chips and hummus, and deposited them on the table.

"There you are ladies, I'll be right back to take your order." The beanie wearing waiter made a quick smile and then scurried back about his business.

"Thanks," the two stated in unison.

"Why not?" Cammie asked, sipping on a mimosa she had ordered before Emma arrived.

"Well for one I work with him, and we all know that never works out well. That and, I don't know, there's something off about him I can't put my finger on."

"Creepy?" Cammie asked bluntly.

"Not so much creepy as…disturbing? I don't know, he seems like he's hiding something." Emma raised the end of the question and shook her head a little bit, scrunching her face and then taking another sip of water.

"Disturbing, yeah, not a good feeling to have." Cammie told her, a little less enthusiastically.

"No kidding."

"Well, my friendly advice, even though you didn't ask for it, enjoy it if you've got it but tread carefully." She had a gleam in her eye and put on her best Ask Alice voice.

"Thanks Cam. Enough about me, what's new with work?" Emma asked her, eager to change the topic, dipping a chip into the hummus.

"Well we have a new DA, his name is Harvey Dent. He's all piss and vinegar, it's great. Of course just being an Assistant Attorney General, I hardly ever interact with him. He's got everybody talking though, really honorable, not afraid to stick his neck out. Lord knows that's what the department needs right now, you can hardly shake a fist in that building without hitting someone on a crime lord's bankroll."

"I like him already," Emma smiled as she took a bite into a chip smothered in hummus. The rest of lunch was relatively uneventful, the normal idle gossip of what people they went to high school with were up to, how their jobs were going, what trips Cammie had planned. As she left to head back to her apartment though, Emma thought seriously about what her friend had said. The sex had been really good, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have another round or two, as long as Crane wasn't going to go blabbering to everyone about it. She had a feeling he wouldn't, knowing how private he seemed to be, and so uninterested in social interaction with coworkers. She figured she'd just have to wait and see how things were Monday, if it would be business as usual, or if he would start acting weird.

Strangely enough, Monday came and went and she didn't see or hear a peep from Crane. It seemed he was going to just take the whole avoidance approach, which she wasn't going to complain about, at least it meant she would be free of having to deal with his arrogance.

About midway through the morning on Tuesday, there was a soft rap at Emma's office door, and she saw the face of the small cleaning lady, Melinda. She was older and had some gray in her hair. She had a beautiful accent that lingered with all of her words, Emma couldn't pinpoint it, but it sounded like it might have been Italian.

"Hi Melinda, how are you today?"

"I am fine Miss Avery." She timidly approached the desk, moving slowly and looking around as if she was afraid someone was watching her.

"There's something I wanted to tell you Miss Avery. Last night when I was cleaning around the hall, I saw Dr. Crane. It was pretty late, about 10 o'clock. It looked like he was trying to break into your office."

"Trying to break in?" Dr. Avery asked, eyebrows pulled up in shock and confusion.

"Yes, he kept jiggling the door handle and even tried sticking something in the lock. I know it is not my place to accuse one of the Doctors of anything, but I thought you should know."

"Well Melinda, thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it." Emma told her with a smile, which was promptly returned, and then Melinda shuffled out the door and closed it behind her.

 _What the hell was he after?_ Emma didn't understand why he was so concerned with her research, unless he was determined to steal it and try to pass it off as his own. That was part of the reason she was always secretive about her works in progress, while she was more than supportive of working together with others on new breakthroughs to aid in psychiatric development, she had seen far too many colleagues get…well…screwed over. About 80% of people would acknowledge the progress of another and work to collaborate, but the other 20% would just as likely rush to take credit and leave the originator in the dust. She figured Crane was the latter. Perhaps the whole ordeal on Halloween was merely an attempt to gain her trust so he could swoop in and take advantage, and if that was his purpose, he would be sorely mistaken.

Emma was forced to sit across the table from him at their afternoon monthly departmental meeting. It was everything she could muster to simply keep a straight face and avoid shooting daggers his direction. Against any self-control, she still found herself clenching her fists underneath the conference room table. As soon as the meeting was over, Emma stood up straight and marched over to face him. The other doctors were gathering their files and shuffling to the door, Crane zipping up his briefcase, when he noticed she was standing to his side and looked up with agitation.

"Ah, Dr. Avery, can I help you with something?" His voice sounded bored and annoyed, like he didn't have the time to engage in some inane conversation.

"I was just wondering why you feel it _necessary_ to try to break into my office outside of hours?" Emma's words were dripping with agitation, arms crossed, with an extremely accusatory tone.

"Break into your office? Where did you get that from?" He said expressionlessly.

"A trusted source," Emma's arms stayed folded as she looked off to the side and then back to him with her eyes wide open, pursing her lips together.

"Well, I would hardly consider it 'trying to break in'. I merely was checking to see if you were around because I had something to ask you." Crane cleared his throat and stood with his briefcase in front of him in a defensive stance.

"Oh yes, and what would that be?" She looked up at him and slowly blinked her eyes. Without immediately responding, he turned and walked out of the door, Emma following shortly behind him, determined to get further information on his motives.

"Simply if you wanted to join me for a late dinner to discuss your aforementioned…assertions…on my research. And maybe, afterwards…" He stopped and turned around to face her, eyes slightly lowered, as he gave her a mischievous smile with those bright crystal blue eyes.

"Take another look behind the…" he got closer and ran his fingertips along her collarbone, sending a shiver down her spine and freezing her in her place.

"…cold exterior." The sharp words snapped her back to reality and she slapped his hand away.

"That's presumptuous of you." Emma spat back through clenched teeth.

"No need to get irritable Dr. Avery. My offer still stands, whenever you change your mind, which you will."

Emma was so fuming she began stalking away before she said or did something regrettable, but then turned around again at an afterthought.

"And by the way, try to break into my office again, and I will get your ass fired _so fast_ it will make your head spin." She jabbed her finger his direction for emphasis.

"Burden of proof Doctor," he said smugly.

Hours later it had already grown dark, and Emma found herself in her office, still stewing with rage.

"How could I have slept with that pompous, arrogant, grade A douche bag?" Even further, she thought, if he was breaking into her office she could try reporting him, but he would no doubt reference their encounter and try to make it seem like she was just some scorned lover trying to exact revenge. The last thing she needed to taint her reputation with. It would be an easy response, and he was by far smart enough to think of it. Beyond irritated, Emma finally decided it was time to hang up her hat for the day and head home, the clock reading it was already 8 o'clock and no one but the cleaning crew was left around.

Once she grabbed her things and rounded the corner, she heard some loud voices.

"… _ **I don't care what he wants to try to play, he owes me the money and the product and he knows it. No. No, that isn't good enough, and if he wants me to keep providing him with my services, he needs to understand that this is the agreement. Let us handle things here. Well, if he has a problem with that, he can tell me himself.**_ " It was unmistakably Crane, on a cell phone with someone, off in a dark corner of the wing. Emma flattened herself up against the wall and waited until she heard the sound of his footsteps fading off into the distance.

"Doctor Crane, what the hell are you up to?" She mused to herself.


	6. Chapter 6: I'll Be Watching You

_**A/N: This chapter gets pretty scandalous. There is some dubcon, masturbation, and descriptive sex. If this isn't your cup of tea, you may want to consider skipping this chapter. Otherwise, enjoy**_

Jonathan Crane leaned against a brick wall in an alleyway, glancing repeatedly at his watch and tapping his foot impatiently. He looked up to the 13th floor window of the building across from him, watching the lights flicker out and then continuing to glance at his watch. As usual he was dressed in one of his suits, but he also had on a large trench coat with the collar popped up, and a somewhat oversized briefcase in tow.

Much to his chagrin, Avery turned out to be a woman, a stunningly intelligent, beautiful, stubborn, and outspoken woman. Though he hated to admit it, he instantly became infatuated with her. So many women he had encountered were a bore, putting on some act of who they thought they should be in front of him, or merely cowering away at his confidence in submission. But this one, this one was something else entirely. She seemed to bring out his better half frequently as well, who had orchestrated the specifics of the new strategy fairly quickly. This one wouldn't be bought. Chip away at her mind and her body until she was weak, and then initiate the next phase. With the surprisingly pleasant sequence of events after the Halloween party, despite her recent nosing around, he was well on his way.

 _ **When can we have another round? I'm itching to see that bitch biting her lip while we fuck her again**_

 _Soon enough, hey body language betrays her, she'll be back._

At first he thought he'd simply carry on the plan same as before, invite her out to lunch, develop some false comradery, and weasel his way in. Very quickly, and with Scarecrow's interference, the situation became much more complicated. Oh, yes, she would be fun to break.

At ten o'clock, on the dot, he punched in the door code and went through the main lobby, somewhat concealing himself, then entered the elevator. The steps were becoming routine after his other visits, the challenge hardly there anymore. For all her gumption, Emma was fairly predictable, following a meticulous schedule, save for occasionally working too late. He approached 1327 and pulled a small tool out of his pocket before jimmying the lock open to allow him inside. The way he walked in and quietly deposited his things on the countertop, one would think he lived in the unit himself. Opening the refrigerator first, he placed a few drops of a clear liquid in a small glass bottle into the water pitcher, stopping to remove a bottle of wine and pour himself a glass. It seemed she had taken to indulging in wine from time to time, and he couldn't help himself.

Opening his briefcase, he pulled out a syringe and a small glass bottle, depressing the syringe into it to fill it with a bright blue liquid. A minimally concentrated dose, enough to ensure she had a tumultuous night of sleep with horrific nightmares. Opening the door to her room, he strode in and sat beside her on her bed, setting the needle down delicately on her nightstand. He allowed his hand to stroke the side of her face, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair from her brow, and resting on her chin for him to study her while his thumb ran across her pouting lower lip.

He felt stirring within him, his cock beginning to throb against him and stiffen as he unceremoniously pushed the covers away from her body to reveal pert nipples in a sheer white tank top and a pair of lacy sleep pants. Memories flashed of her bent over in front of him on the couch, screaming out in pleasure as he took her from behind. The event had been potent enough to discourage him from visiting her for a few nights to continue her treatment.

 _ **Isn't that a sight for sore eyes.**_

He ran a finger along the elastic waistband of her pants, gently easing them downwards and rolling her slightly over so her bare bottom was exposed to him. He rubbed an alcohol wipe across it, then grabbed the saringe and injected her with it's contents. As minutes passed by her body began to tense and shudder, fresh perspiration beading at her forehead and through the sheer tank top, indicating the effects were taking place. Crane sipped the glass of wine as he took her pulse with his free hand, confirming it was elevated.

Lost in the moment, he allowed his other half to run a hand along the delicate dip of her waist and curve of her shapely hip, stopping to roughly palm her prominent ass. Her body shuddered suddenly underneath him and she whimpered before moaning out.

"Arrghhhh, Jonathan." The doctor found himself jerking back in shock, verifying she was still totally unconscious. It seemed a strange turn that in her toxin induced nightmares she was thinking of him, and gaining some sort of pleasure from it. His lips curled up on the end at the thought, pleased at the turn of events, sure that he was well on his way to his goal. Continuing to sip the wine he walked about the apartment, sifting through Emma's mail, sitting on her couch and looking at the books she was reading. When he decided he was done, he packed up his case and relocked the door behind him, drifting away like a phantom.

* * *

Jonathan returned to his own apartment. It was a spacious corner view high rise, windows lined it from floor to ceiling, decorated in sleek black furniture, only the finest. After shrugging his coat off and hanging it up, he tossed his keys onto the kitchen countertop and loosened his tie. Each of his shoes was untied and removed, followed by his suit jacket which he delicately folded over his arm.

Still pondering on dear Doctor Avery, he moved to the sizeable bedroom and began removing his clothing, then started the shower. Few things brought him the pleasure of a hot shower at the end of the day, and he took great care to select an apartment with a sizeable unit, with a sitting bench and white marble, dual heads to spray water from different directions. As he removed his black boxer briefs, and stepped in, the hot stream of water only hastened his already high heartrate, adrenaline still rushing from his nightly voyeur.

Jonathan let his mind wander as the steam rose and his body began to relax, flashes of Emma's body trembling beneath him filled it again, kissing him deeply in the hallway. He felt himself grow aroused, the mixing emotions making it potent and unshakeable, his member already standing prominently at attention as droplets of water cascaded down his body.

 _ **Just think of what we'll do to her. That tight little body of hers will be begging for us, completely at our disposal. She'll try to use her mind against us, but we know better. She'll tell us her deepest darkest secrets, help us perfect our medicine, serve us however we desire.**_

Crane moaned out loud and began stroking himself, the mental image of her down on her knees, begging him to stop, shaking in fear of what he would do. His hand increased speed and pressure, pumping up and down rapidly as he braced his other hand against the wall of the shower.

 _ **Remember that little number she was wearing tonight? We could just see her with a hint in her eye, teasing us while she slowly pulled them down for us, asking what she can do to please us. That brilliant mind, ours for the taking.**_

Jonathan suddenly spasmed and emptied himself onto the shower floor, the water quickly washing it away, feeling blissful release for a moment before coming back down to realize it was nothing more than a quick fix.

* * *

It was hard for him to hide his amusement when he spotted her the next day, noticeable bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, looking slightly more disheveled than usual. Their morning meeting only solidified this, as he noticed her drinking coffee at a rapid pace. When he noticed her eyes slowly drifting to his every once in a while, he took his pen to his mouth and slowly rubbed it along his lip, her eyes lingering there more.

"Avery?" Doctor Arkham called out, jolting her from her trance and making it hard for Crane not to laugh.

"Yes?" She seemed dazed still.

"The patient list Doctor Avery?"

"Oh yes, of course," she fiddled around in her black binder and handed a copy over to him, Arkham raising his brow in question at her before continuing the meeting.

Crane decided it was the perfect time for another quick game. She hurried out of the room when the meeting was over, and clicked in her heels down the corridor back to her office. Slinking like a tiger going after prey, he followed behind he and wrapped at the door until she called for him to enter.

"Doctor Crane. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her voice was annoyed, but he knew better. Hands in his pockets, he slowly walked over to the couch and took a seat on it, stroking the arm rest they had copulated on.

"I wanted to talk about the other night, the Halloween party." He looked directly at her in the most smoldering stare he could muster, watching as she nervously gulped and then stared at her computer monitor.

"I told you I don't like to mix business with pleasure. I had one too many drinks and made a poor decision, I hope you can appreciate it for what it was and move past it." She closed her eyes as she faced away from him, going about sorting files and putting them into the file cabinet behind her desk.

"Are you so sure about that, you seemed to have your wits about you well enough." Emma clenched her first and spun around, narrowing her eyes at him as he stood smugly with his hands in his pockets facing her.

"You're delusional."

"Am I?" He paused and stroked his chin in his hand as if deep in thought.

"You seem a bit off today, are you having trouble sleeping?"

"I don't know maybe I should ask you that. Seems you've been spending some long nights here?" His eye twitched, ever so slightly, and he ran his top teeth over his bottom lip.

"Well, you aren't the only one with lab work to get done." So, she had been watching him closer than he thought, unfortunate.

"Since when was there a lab in this wing? Also, why is it that you keep pestering me to see my research, when you aren't willing to share your own?" Her responses snapped back, getting firmer and less apologetic.

"You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Not happening." She spat, sitting back down and typing away. He slowly moved closer until he was directly in front of her, sitting on her desk right next to her. It clearly made her uncomfortable as her fortitude seemed to crumble and her eyes began to dart to anywhere in the room except for him, yet she didn't ask him to leave. With one hand he reached forward and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him and he saw the hidden want in her eyes, mixed with shame, it was intoxicating. Leaning down he placed kisses along her neck as she froze in place, letting out a small moan as he reached her collarbone.

"Not here." She said breathily, stopping him in his tracks as he went to whisper in her ear.

"Where then?"

"My place, 7" she scribbled down an address on the back of one of her business cards and handed it to him.

"Dinner then?"

"No dinner, let's keep this what it is, just a good lay." She was trying to come off in control, but her voice was slightly wavering.

 _ **I love it when she talks dirty.**_

"A good lay, huh?" He raised an eyebrow and chuckled to himself.

* * *

At 7 on the dot he arrived at the familiar apartment, hearing her inside pacing around aimlessly as he knocked at the door. She opened it and looked flushed, her formal work clothes were gone and she stood in a pair of tight jeans with a long-sleeved oxblood red thermal on, clinging to each of her slender but womanly curves. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, and while she wore makeup, it was hardly noticeable, applied with a light hand that just made her look flawless.

 _ **Beautiful, I think I like her better like this.**_

There was barely a moment to register it before she reached around him to shut the door and instantly was at his lips. Taking control, she pulled him forward roughly by his lapels and deepened the kiss further, tongue exploring the depths, gently kneading his own. Grunting lightly he shrugged the jacket off, placing his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and leading her back into her bedroom, then shoving her back onto her bed. With quick but skilled fingers he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt and loosened his tie, pulling it over his head but keeping it clutched in one hand.

She smelled like roses and patchouli, he had noticed it before, but it was freshly applied now and it left a pleasant aroma in the air and around her. Growing impatient she reached forward and pulled him by his waistband on top of her, rubbing her hands along his chest and the curly patches of hair that lay there. Something stirred inside of him at the feeling of her soft hands on him, affection? No, that couldn't be. It was her turn to be disrobed and he pulled off the shirt and hastily removed her bra, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples before sharply biting it. She yelped, but wasted no time in rubbing her palm against the stiffness growing in his pants, leaving him groaning in frustration. Getting up on his knees, he removed his buckle and unbuttoned his pants, she rose to meet him and pressed her breasts against him, pulling him back into a kiss as one of her hands dipped into his boxer briefs and stroked his cock.

" **My, my Doctor, quite eager aren't we?"** She growled slightly in anger at this and flipped him onto his back, pulling his pants from his legs and straddling him.

"Don't you ever shut up Crane?"

" _ **Not Crane, Scarecrow, and if only you knew."**_ Emma seemed un-phased by the brazen confession, grinding against him wantonly while she moaned at the stimulation. Tightly, he gripped her by the hips and flipped her over, allowing him to pull her pants from her and free them of another layer of clothing. He slid her frilly lace trimmed panties down and kissed her as he inserted two fingers into her.

 _ **So tight, so wet**_

He watched her eyes clench shut as she writhed underneath him, expert fingers stroking the sensitive spot inside of her, his mouth soon travelling down to lick at her clit. She wouldn't last much longer like this, her back arching off of the bed, moaning louder and louder. Body shuddering, she screamed out his name as she clenched around his fingers. He had as much as he could bear, flipping her onto her stomach as she came down from her orgasm and using his tie to secure her arms to the bedframe. The boxer briefs finally came off, and he stroked himself a few times before positioning himself at her entrance and slamming in. The feel of her was incredible, just as he remembered it, and with each steady thrust he grunted softly as he let the beast within take over. With her hands secured, Emma was forced to grab onto the bed frame to support her, moaning with each urgent thrust.

It wasn't long before their moans escalated and his speed quickened, he wrapped one hand around her hair and jerked it back as he rode her out, each of them shouting in ecstasy as she came again hard, and he followed behind. Crane unfastened the tie and they both lay covered in sweat and panting next to one another. They lay that way for a few minutes before Emma broke the silence.

"This is the last time, I mean it."

"Promises, promises," Jonathan chided next to her, harsh blue eyes peering into her soul.

"I'm sure, no different than myself, you have no desire to sacrifice your career for a few carnal delights," she sat up and let her legs hang off the edge of the bed.

"It's only a problem if you get caught," he kissed her at her neck and she closed her eyes and leaned into it, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer, "leave any loose ends."

"Guess you shouldn't leave anything untouched then."

"Guess not."


	7. Chapter 7: The Breakthrough

Though Crane had dressed and left before dawn, a hint of his spicy, expensive cologne still lingered on the sheets and in the air. The scent, along with the soreness between her legs, reminded Emma that the events of the previous night were real, and they came rushing back to her in a tidal wave. It was a blur of skin and sweat and moans, but essentially, they had fucked until both of them were to the point of exhaustion, at which time they had collapsed into sleep. Surprisingly enough, he had stayed, and she woke up in the middle of the night to find his arm draped possessively over her, muttering angrily to himself lost in a dream. Similar to the last time, the night of sleep she had was the best and most refreshed she had felt in a long time.

It was an addiction, Emma thought to herself, that would be the clinical explanation. Fulfilling sexual experiences and orgasm leading to an increase of dopamine in the brain, binding to receptors in euphoria, leading the mind to continue to seek out the pleasure again. That despite every logical part of her brain not only screaming to her that Crane was trouble, into something he shouldn't be, and a potential knock to her career, still she couldn't stop thinking about another go. Another taste of him, another mind-blowing orgasm from his skilled hands. The only way she could think to curtail it was to pour herself into her work, which unfortunately was within close proximity to him, but the busier she was, the less time she had to let her mind wander to… other things.

Fortunately for her, there was no morning meeting on Tuesdays, which meant there would be no forced interaction between her and a certain bespectacled colleague. Also, she had very limited appointments, which meant she could easily hermit herself away in the lab. After quickly depositing her things and checking messages, she grabbed her lab coat and rushed down to the lab, passing friendly faces in the process, but luckily no Crane.

Hours passed as she swirled different liquids, and scratched random notes on her notepad. Everything had been progressing as planned, she was getting dangerously close to perfecting the formula, and hours passed by undistracted and fully engaged in formulating and testing. The lunch hour came and went, and she didn't even realize how late it had become until the evening shift technician came in to start.

"Dr. Avery, please don't let me disturb you if you're in the middle of something," Sabrina was in her twenties, Asian, with beautiful almond eyes and silky black hair. She was way too good for the Asylum, but she was stuck in between jobs and took the offer as a temporary fill-in. Emma would be sad to see her go, and tried to use her as much as possible in the process until the time came. She was thorough, which was a quality Emma valued most in a colleague.

"No worries, just finishing up."

"Oh, um, Doctor Crane was looking for you. Is there something going on with you guys? After the Halloween party there's been some rumors going around. I hope it's not rude of me to bring up, I just figured if it was me, I would want to know." Emma gulped and felt her cheeks turn red against her will.

"Thanks, I appreciate that. Just professional colleagues, I don't think I could stand his arrogance in a dating relationship. What was it he wanted?" Emma took a sip of water to try to act nonchalant.

"He just asked if I had seen you, he said he was working on a case, something really hard that only you would be able to help work out with him?" Emma inadvertently spit her water out and then wiped her mouth.

"Sorry, wrong tube. Well, I'll see if I can catch up with him about it tomorrow, thanks." Emma gathered up her things and exchanged pleasantries with Sabrina before heading back upstairs to her office. She shrugged off her lab coat and hung it up on the rack next to her desk, then grabbed her briefcase to deposit her notebook in and a few other files from her desk. When she went to grab them though, she paused, and she noted that the tie Crane had on the previous night was sitting there, neatly wrapped up and resting on her keyboard. It smelled like that same spicy, woodsy cologne, and she snatched it off of her desk and quickly shoved it into her bag out of sight.

She got back to her apartment and performed her usual after work routine: dinner, hot bath, television, glass of wine, bed. As her head hit the pillow however, she heard a strange noise at the bedroom window. Emma got up and pulled the blinds to look and see what it was, and gasped when she saw that the apartment below was on fire, the smoke beginning to permeate through the floor. Instinctively, she held her nightshirt up to her cover her mouth and ran for the door, coughing as the smoke started to cover everything. Once she opened the door, she was shocked to find that the hallway was in flames, and she screamed in horror as the floor burned and dropped out from under her feet and she fell.

When she woke from the nightmare, she was covered in sweat, and could swear that she smelled smoke, so much so she felt the need to get up and check out every door and window in her apartment to make sure there were no flames. What she found was nothing, except the smell of what she swore was Crane's cologne, which she shrugged off as reminiscent of the previous night or of the tie.

* * *

The next day she met with her patient Kevin yet again, this time to check on the results of the last iteration of her elixir. After their last appointment, Kevin still seemed to be struggling with random panic attack episodes, which were unresponsive to standard treatment. It seemed a safe and perfect opportunity to see if her work was worth it, and the pleasant sedative could truly serve its intended purpose. Her hair was securely fastened into a bun, and she smiled in the treatment room as she slid into the chair aside from Kevin, clipboard in hand. Today, somewhat out of character, she had opted to wear a pencil skirt with a simple blouse, and she carefully crossed her ankles as she sat.

"Good Morning Kevin, how are you doing today?" He looked very relaxed and at ease, slouching back in his chair and smiling with a toothy grin.

"Still great, better than great actually. That stuff you gave me really was the final touch I think. Even when things get really bad it calms me down unlike anything else. I actually feel normal for once, you know, whatever normal is." Emma couldn't hide the smile tugging at the edges of her mouth, utterly pleased that it seemed her diligent work had paid off and the medication was a success.

"Great. Well, I do have some good news for you then. If you're ready, we're prepared to set your release date to next week. As a reminder, we have an excellent rehabilitation program in place with job and housing opportunities if that's something you'd like to get more information on. Does that sound like something you're ready to do?"

"Yeah, I mean, yeah I would love to get back out there." Kevin's excitement and happiness was contagious, and after they shook hands, she smiled as she walked out the door and headed back to her office to record the progress.

As she rounded one of the corridors back to her office, however, her face dropped as she caught sight of tousled black hair and a sneer on full lips.

"Ah, Doctor Avery. I take it you got my message." He got within arm's length and smirked as he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"I thought I made myself clear before, whatever it is that's going on with us, it needs to stay outside of work. People are already starting to talk." Her voice was an agitated whisper, although they were alone in the hallway, she didn't want to risk someone overhearing.

"Let them talk then." Crane rolled his eyes in annoyance and crossed his arms. Emma nudged past him and he followed closely behind her.

"May I ask what it is you're working on?" It didn't even come across casual in the slightest, in typical fashion, she was fairly sure he knew exactly what she was working on and was trying to pry out answers again.

"No, you may not." Her voice was somewhat irate and she kept a brisk pace.

"Oh come on, we're work colleagues remember? Close work colleagues share their cases and help each other out." He ran out in front of her and started walking backwards so he would continue to face her. With a deep sigh she stopped, raised her eyebrows and tucked her mouth back, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Fine then, I've tested my new formula out on my patient Kevin, and it's working stunningly well." Crane's mouth twitched slightly before opening into a shit eating grin, his fingers grabbing his chin.

"What exciting news. Guess this means your late nights and long hours in the lab are over?"

"Not quite. I figured you as a fellow perfectionist would understand that." Emma looked off to the side in annoyance.

"So if you've had the breakthrough then are you willing to share?" He took a step closer, close enough the familiar smell of his cologne was surrounding her senses and reminding her of their previous couplings.

"Not quite, I'm going to be summarizing my findings into a paper, you can read it once it gets published, how about that?" The snark in her voice was palatable.

"Ever the paranoid android aren't you Emma?" He reached down to her free hand and gently stroked the skin at her wrist, sending shivers down her spine.

"Maybe, I'd rather call it 'careful'." Her voice was softer now, quieter.

"What are you doing tonight?" The words were nearly whispered into her ear, she could feel his breath there, intensifying the shivers.

"I'm busy." Her voice caught in her throat and gave her away as she closed her eyes and leaned into him ever so slightly.

"Busy with what?" There was a dark edge to his voice, menacing.

"Busy with my own personal business."

"Fine then, what about tomorrow night." Emma chewed on her bottom lip, she turned her head to stare into his icy blue eyes, magnified by his sleek frames.

"Open." The words came out surprisingly confident and determined.

"I propose a change in scenery. How about my place. Don't worry I won't offer dinner since you are so vehemently opposed to it. I'll text you the address." He took a step back and took a wide stance, putting his hands into his pants pockets.

"We'll see."

"You'll be there. I'll see you then, don't worry you can continue trying to avoid me here as much as you'd like. I'll try not to get in the way." He winked at her and turned on his heels to leave.

 _Kind of a short chapter, but I'm already about halfway done with the next one, which will have a lot more going on. Should have it posted here in the next few days!_


	8. Chapter 8: Who Am I to Disagree?

Jonathan Crane sat at his desk and tapped his pen angrily against the surface. He needed to start accelerating his plans, if what Avery had said was true, and she had perfected this serum of hers. He had caught wind from before he even started at Arkham that this Doctor was working on some "master cure". At first he had been dubious, perhaps a bit too proud, that such a potential antidote could exist to his masterful fear serum. Still, he was intrigued enough to begin slipping her patient Kevin Johnson some doses to see how he responded. Much to his dismay, there was no response, and this supposed miracle serum she had developed was indeed effective. Despite his best efforts to discover what the concoction was, a key component remained a mystery to him, resilient to his best efforts to identify it on his own, or more simply to have her divulge the information. If he simply knew what it was, it would be much more straightforward to counteract. So the dance continued, and he persistently attempted to attack her weakness: sexual desire. He had to admit, it was a bit disappointing that someone so brilliant would be weak to such an utterly human instinct, but there were much less enjoyable ways for him to break someone.

 _ **Oh come on, are you really trying to say that you don't look forward to each of our meetings with her?**_ He shrugged at the internal voice, rolling his eyes and packing his things to prepare for their planned evening encounter.

He had meticulously cleaned the area in his apartment, arranging everything as visually pleasing as possible, and even casually laying out some reading material he knew would catch her eye. While dinner was not in the plans, two wine glasses were set on the clean countertop with a bottle of rare and expensive Pinot Grigio, along with a plate of ripe red strawberries that stood out against the solid plain colors of the room.

He had his blazer removed and his white crisp dress shirt rolled up to his elbow, leaning casually back against the refrigerator as he glanced down at his expensive watch. It was five past the hour, and it wasn't like her to be late. Raising an eyebrow he suspected that she likely was stuck in traffic.

Thirty minutes passed by, and still she was not there. He pushed his glasses up from his nose and clenched his jaw.

"She isn't coming." He said aloud to himself.

" _ **How dare that little bitch deny us. It's time. You know it is, no more sneaking around, no more careful wording. Let me have at her."**_

"Yes, I was hoping to avoid it, but it seems this is dragging out much longer than I like. The groundwork has been laid out, all that's left is the final act." A slow smile spread across his face, and he opened up his special briefcase and prepared his supplies.

* * *

Emma yawned at her desk, noticing how much worse she was starting to look from insufficient sleep night after night. In her head she made a mental note to see one of the other Doctor's about prescribing her a higher strength sedative. With the exception of a missed message or 3rd party notification, she had been able to successfully avoid Crane for over a week. Despite her strong desires, she had managed to make the wiser decision and put an end to their sexual relationship. The illuminated screen of her computer was giving her a horrible headache as she typed up her daily patient report. Finally, she gave in and popped a couple aspirin, washing it down with a large gulp of water from her stainless steel thermos.

The phone rang suddenly and she jolted up.

"Dr. Avery." She answered, placing a hand on her chest to calm her down.

"Emma. You need to come down to the infirmary right away." It was one of the guards, Billy was his name, if she remembered correctly.

"What is it?" Emma's voice was becoming somewhat concerned.

"Kevin Johnson. He's…well he's dead."

She slammed the phone down and nearly ran to the infirmary, seeing Billy shaken up and talking to Jeremiah Arkham as she arrived.

"Slow down Billy, tell me what happened." The large guard was nearly in tears.

"I was making rounds when I heard screaming, but I mean, that's not totally uncommon here. This was different though, blood curdling, he was crying for help. When I went over to check, he had clawed his own eyes out, blood everywhere. We took him the infirmary but, but…" Emma patted him on the back.

"It's okay Billy, these things happen from time to time. There's nothing you could have done to help him." Emma slowly walked over to the table.

"Emma, it's not pretty," Dr. Arkham stated, putting his arm out in front of her in a protective gesture. Emma gave him a half smile and gently pulled it out of her way.

"I'm sure I've seen worse Jeremiah." She took a deep breath and looked over at Kevin, or what was left of him. His face was almost entirely gone, except for the remnants of his mouth which seemed to be twisted into a horrified expression. Covering her eyes and taking a deep breath, Emma turned around to face the others.

"I don't understand. He was doing so well with the new medication…May I see the security tapes?" She rubbed her temples and followed one of the other guards to the observing room. As she briskly walked through the hallway, she saw the last person in the world she wanted to see standing at the end of it.

"Is everything all right Doctor Avery?" Crane asked emotionlessly. He remained standing right in the middle of Dr. Avery's path.

"What do you think Crane? Get out of my way," brushing past him she continued stomping through the hallways on a mission, but heard the faint sound of his footsteps following behind her. She walked into the dark room with the guard and looked at the screen covering Kevin's room.

"Rewind please" the video flashed back with scores of people moving backwards in and out of the room, the cot, the med staff, Kevin scratching and scratching. Emma had to turn her face away for a moment to take another deep breath of composure, and when she turned back she saw he was sitting.

"Stop. There…" Kevin was sitting in the corner on his bunk, it looked like he was staring at something. There appeared to be a shadow in the corner of the screen, just out of the camera's view.

"Volume please"

"Uh, hello?" Kevin asked in the video. The screen suddenly went snowy and the sound cut out.

"What the hell is this? Can it be fixed?"

"Sorry Doctor. It happens sometimes, electrical interference."

"Well it's a damn convenient time for it to happen" Emma muttered under her breath.

The video and sound came back up and it was Kevin, screaming. He was running into the wall and scratching at himself.

"SCARECROW! SCARECROW! NOOOOOOOO!"

"What the hell is scarecrow?" She mused softly to herself.

"Turn it off please." Emma turned around and massaged the bridge of her nose.

"Why did this HAPPEN" With a slam of her fist against the table, she picked up a nearby phone and called to the infirmary.

"I want a toxicology report right now."

"Of course Doctor but the results won't be ready for hours."

"That's fine, thank you for your help" she hung up the phone with a slam.

"Is that really necessary, it's clear he succumbed to illness. Death happens in patients here, we can only do so much for the insane." Crane chimed in from behind, where she hadn't even realized he had been standing.

"Never with my patients."

"There's a first time for everyone," he cooed to her, stroking her back slightly. Emma shrugged him off angrily.

"NOT for ME."

The clock ticked by, and finally Emma found herself walking to the lab like a zombie. It was 10 o'clock but she was determined to thank the lab techs for staying up so late to help, and in light of the incident and her recent sleep habits, she doubted she would be able to sleep tonight anyway. Sabrina, the lab tech on duty, was nowhere to be found. She was either still working, or had handed it over to the next shift. It was already 3 o'clock and Emma came to the conclusion she might as well head home and get some rest since there was no way it was going to be done anytime soon. Letting out a defeated sigh, she turned around to head out.

"Hello Doctor." Crane was right in front of her. God did he love to do that. As much as he had been lingering in her mind lately, there were bigger fish to fry right now, and she was tired and ragged.

"Crane listen, I'm very tired, I'm really not in the mood to talk right now."

"Your situation perplexed me and I remembered something I have in one of my books."

"Maybe tomorrow, right now I really just…" when Emma looked up she noticed his face was cut and bleeding.

"What happened to your face? Are you okay?" Her hands came up to inspect him, but he turned away, using a handkerchief from his coat pocket to wipe the blood off.

"It's nothing. Just come to my office, it will only take a second." Resigned, Emma decided in the frustration of the situation, it was worth it to at least look at what he thought might help. Hesitating for a few seconds, Emma offered up a half smile.

"Sure, I'm open to any ideas." After navigating the labyrinth of towering hallways, they finally made it back to the main offices and she followed him into his own. Mostly she had avoided going in there, and she noted it was a bit smaller than her own, but designed in the same fashion. There were built-in bookcases on either side of the desk and a long window looking onto the main courtyard. He stood beside his desk and placed a hand on it, leaning forward. Emma turned her head to the side in confusion.

"So, where's this book Crane?" He turned with a wicked gleam in his eye.

"There is no book."

"What do you mean there is no book? I don't have time for this, I need to figure out what happened to my patient. There's no time for any more games, I need to sleep." Her voice was elevated, pace quickened and getting irate, she threw her hands up in the air and then crossed them in front of her.

" _ **Yes, doctor. You do need to sleep**_ " He pulled a syringe out of his suit jacket and the wheels in Emma's head clicked into place as she immediately ran for the door. She shook the handles in frustration, realizing they were locked. Still, her back remained against it, fiddling with the lock mechanism behind her to no avail. Slowly, she moved towards the window.

"Where are my lab results Jonathan?" Her voice shook slightly as she asked him.

" _ **Sadly, they were inconclusive. And did you hear about Sabrina? Tsk tsk tsk, what a horrible accident she's had.**_ " Emma's eyes began to bulge in fear.

"Scarecrow right, you said it the other night Jonathan, while we were…" Her voice trailed off as she gulped.

" _ **Fucking? Bravo Doctor, you're putting the pieces together, a bit too late I'm afraid. Also, please stop calling me Jonathan, the good Doctor isn't in right now and I really hate it when people call me his name.**_ " She made a run for the window, but he blocked her path, grabbing her by her hair and shoving her head against the door.

"Wow, you're insane." She angrily gritted out as he painfully held her against the door.

" _ **They do say there is a fine line between genius and insanity. You just had to be so difficult didn't you, sticking your nose into everything, refusing to tell us about your formula. You really brought this on yourself you know. Now hold still doctor Avery, it will only sting for a second.**_ " Emma pushed hard enough to get off of the door, but he immediately slammed her face back into it. He was stronger than he looked. He held her wrists together behind her back and she felt a sharp pinch in her neck, followed by his mouth licking over the spot and then biting her.

" _ **Now doctor, you will begin to feel paralysis in about…2 ½ minutes, once the Mivacurium has time to enter your system**_ "

"Mivacurium!? You gave me Mivacurium!" With everything Emma had left she pushed him off of her and punched him in the face. He reeled backwards, rubbing his sore jaw and she scrambled to unlock the door. Finally, she jimmied the lock mechanism open and tried to run but only made it a few steps before her legs gave out. Slowly, she used her arms to crawl but they soon followed suit. Slow steps approached her and internally she screamed out.

" _ **Oh how the mighty have fallen.**_ " He bent down gleefully and picked her up, sliding his arm around her waist. Again, his strength surprised Emma, as he supported her full weight without issue.

"I know you can hear me so listen closely. You are going to follow me out of the building and follow my instructions, and if you try anything I'll put a bullet in you."

His arm was cleverly covered by her jacket, and it looked as if the two of them were walking intimately with one another. The gun he had procured was also concealed and shoved against her ribs. They exited the wing devoted to offices and walked down the corridor towards the main entrance. The two of them were about to approach a security camera when he turned to whisper in her ear.

"Be convincing." He laughed. "Well, as convincing as you can be right now"

Before she could process it, he had led her up against the wall of the corridor and leaned in for a kiss. The kiss deepened and she started to feel him grow hard against her leg, his smooth tongue expertly exploring her mouth, his hand in her hair, along her face, along her breasts, it all felt so familiar. He pulled away and she suddenly came back to reality.

" _ **Hmm, not bad, but definitely not as good as the other night. Granted you can't exactly reciprocate right now**_ " he said, straightening his jacket and continuing to walk propping her up.

Subtly, he reached into her coat pocked for her id card, and swiped the both of them out together, moving towards the main door.

"Haven't you heard the staff talking? There are rumors we're lovers. We shouldn't disappoint them."

They walked over to his black jag, and he opened the passenger side door and slid her into the seat before closing the door and hopping into the driver's side. Without any hesitation, he cautiously went down and secured her ankles and wrists with zip ties.

He was setting up the perfect alibi. The camera trick had been good for the short term but not the long term, he wanted something, so he couldn't kill her right away. With their interactions and the rumors, anyone reviewing the footage would just assume they went home together. Surely, he would come up with some story as to her current whereabouts so no one would be suspicious. She wondered how long he had been setting it all up, planning. There was no way she was going to just let this happen, she couldn't. It had been about twenty minutes, and right on cue she started feeling some pinpricking tingles back in her muscles. He fastened himself in and her fast metabolism started working, allowing a finger to wiggle away from sight. Nevertheless, she forced herself to remain expressionless and still. The car roared as the engine started, and soft classical music played over the radio as Crane moved the car.

"You know, you could have made this a lot easier on yourself. If you'd just left your office unlocked or told me what I wanted to know. And then to top it off, you have to go snooping around. I really had no other choice, you brought this on yourself." He was completely calm compared to earlier, keeping his gaze straight ahead on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the stick shift. Emma tried to keep a mental image of where he was taking them, and based on his earlier description, it appeared to be to his apartment. They drove into an underground parking garage and he stopped the vehicle.

"Welcome home…at least until I decide you aren't worth keeping alive." He exited the car and walked over to her door, opening it and bending over to remove her. Without a second guess, she swung her legs out of the car and kicked them as hard as she could at his chest, sending him careening towards the ground. While he was dazed she hopped over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck before head butting him until he lay motionless. She searched his pockets and found a small knife which she used to cut the zip ties, then grabbed the gun and his keys.

Her hands were shaking so badly it took several tries to get the key successfully into the ignition. Once the car finally started, she looked up only to see Crane's enraged and bloodied face staring back at her through the passenger window, and without hesitation, she locked the door and sent the car into reverse.

For some reason though, he didn't even seem to care, raising red flags in her head. As she backed up out of view she saw him put his cell phone to his ear and give a cheap smile and a wave as she sped off into the night. Adrenaline pumping, and head aching, Emma gunned it for the Gotham PD headquarters.

After parking the car, she ran to the counter where a gruff looking heavyset man sat with his eyes barely open met her. The waiting room was like a ghost town, not much going on tonight at 4am.

"Someone is after me, someone is trying to kill me, please help" She rambled on as her voice trembled.

"Hold on hold on, I need you to calm down." He said holding his hands up.

"First you need to tell me your name m'am."

"Emma Avery. Please help me, someone is trying to kill me."

"Okay Dr. Avery, I need you to go over to that room and talk to Officer Rowe, he deals with this kind of thing." Emma nodded and walked over to the door across the big white room that he had motioned towards, carefully walking through and shutting it behind her. Taking a deep breath as a means to calm herself down, she sat and explained the situation to the officer, who calmly nodded and rubbed his chin stubble with his other hand.

"Listen Doc, we'll get everything taken care of, just calm down and sit tight." He moved into another room and picked up a telephone. Mid conversation, his eyes darted to over to her through the glass pane of the door and then back again. In her head, Emma knew something wasn't right. _Wait a second. I never told any of them I was a doctor…why the hell did they keep calling me doctor then?_ Slowly she got up and walked out of the door.

"Excuse me miss, where are you going?" The officer sitting behind the main desk said.

"Could you please tell me where the ladies room is?" He sat down and pointed to a short hallway to the left. The lights were half out, but she still managed to find the room. There was a window, just big enough to fit through. Perfect.

As quietly as possible she propped the window open and riggled out of it, running quickly down the block and hailing a cab. Luckily there was one close by, and quickly she sputtered out the address of her apartment. There really wasn't another option left but to get her things and get out of town as fast as possible, it seemed whatever dealings Crane was involved in, they went deep.

The elevator dinged loudly passing each floor of the apartment building, as Emma paced around in small circles and bit her fingernails. When the door opened at her floor, she ran down the hallway and fumbled through her pocket for her keys, quickly opening the door and just as quickly closing it. Although her cell phone and wallet were in her purse in the office, she fortunately carried her keys in her pocket. After double checking that all of the apartment locks were secured, she ran into the bedroom and started throwing clothes into a duffle bag. There wasn't much time if he had all of Gotham under his thumb. The dresser was ransacked until a wad of cash was uncovered, which she roughly shoved into the waistline of her pants. Her eyes flew open and she froze however, when she heard the bedroom door shut. Smoke filled the air and Emma began to cough and crumple to the ground as the world started to spin around her.

" _ **Leaving so soon? But we were just starting to have fun.**_ " The apartment walls started peeling back, the floor dropped out, and she found herself crouched in the corner holding onto one of the curtains for dear life. It had to be a hallucinogen, and she fought through it to attempt to maintain some clarity.

"How did you get in?" She muttered between half closed eyes.

" _ **I've been in here at least twenty times before, watching you, drugging you. Your sleep problems are my doing, you're just a puppet in my little play**_."

" _ **NOW COME WITH ME**_ " the voice distorted in a loud boom. Shaking she got to her feet, arms out in front of her as the walls of the apartment continued to crumble away.

" _ **Ah-ah ah. Hands behind the back this time. So will you be a good girl now Doctor?**_ " This time he knew better and used handcuffs, his face contorted into a horrific ghastly vision.

"It appears I have no other choice. Clearly I underestimated you." She replied with little emotion, the words echoing in her head as her world went to black.


	9. Chapter 9: Trapped

When Emma came to she found herself in a dark room, which she instantly identified as in a basement somewhere due to the humidity, chill of the air, and distinct dank, old earthy smell of being underground. A few single lightbulbs hung from the ceiling and flickered inconsistently on and off.

"Shit Emma, what have you gotten yourself into." She muttered to herself, standing up slowly as her head still spun, most likely after effects of the hallucinogen Crane had used. The room area was basically a cement floor and walls lined with a few supporting columns. A single door was on the opposite end, presumably locked, nevertheless she tried to open it anyway, without it budging an inch. Emma walked around the perimeter of the room, gliding her hand along the wall to search for any hidden exits but there was nothing.

Resigned, she sat back down on the cold hard floor and hugged her knees in, with nothing to do but wait.

What seemed like an eternity later, footsteps echoed in the distance, and the door opened to reveal a shadowed figure. As it stepped closer, Emma noted it was none other than Crane, wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, probably the most relaxed she could recall ever seeing him. He also was holding a gun to his side, undoubtedly to counter any further potential escape. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

" _ **Dr. Avery, awake again I see?"**_ he said, as cocky and smooth as ever. Emma looked up at him with angry and frustrated eyes and a sneer, but said nothing.

" _ **What? No clever retort? I could definitely get used to this."**_ He walked around slowly, black strands draping in front of his eyes, then crouched and forced her chin to face him.

" _ **Now, I'm going to try to make this as easy as possible. You tell me what I want to know...or I'll make you wish that you did."**_

"Who says you won't just kill me if I do tell you?" She said softly in agitation, jerking her chin from his grasp.

" _ **I guess you'll just have to assume I'm true to my word."**_ he smiled an evil smile and got back up again.

 _ **"Now, where are your files on your research, you don't have them in your office, and the notebook in your bedroom was useless. But I do have to admit I had a good time getting it."**_ There was something in his eyes when he mentioned that. Something intriguing she couldn't put her finger on, like he was mentally undressing her. Given the situation, the thought made her shudder, knowing he had most definitely killed Kevin and potentially Sabrina, and that she had willingly fornicated with him on multiple occasions.

"I do have case files. And yes, they are hidden, because I've had bad experiences in the past of colleagues trying to take credit for my work. Those are locked away in a concealed cabinet in my office. My formulas, on the other hand, you won't find anywhere." His lips tightened into a line and his jaw clenched.

 _ **"Well you have to be keeping track of them somewhere, and I'm growing IMPATIENT."**_ His voice was frighteningly loud and menacing, but Emma merely took a deep breath and looked up at him with her eyes lowered and her blonde hair hanging in the way, smiling snidely and pointing to her temple with two fingers.

"It's all up here Crane. Now how about this? You give me something to eat, and I will tell you more." She leaned back casually against one of the columns and crossed her arms in front of her chest, but Crane quickly grabbed her by the throat and forced her to stand as she began coughing and struggling for breath while he narrowed his eyes.

 _ **"You aren't in a bartering position."**_ He squeezed tighter and she began gasping for air, kicking him squarely in the stomach to get away.

Emma got up and ran for the door but he caught up with her quickly and smashed her head against the wall before any escape could be made. Crumpling to the ground, blood slowly dripped from her forehead. Crane picked up his gun and grabbed her by the shirt, dragging her across the floor back to the spot in front of the concrete column.

 _ **"Okay, so maybe you don't give a *SHIT* what I do to you, but I can have your family murdered in less than a day. Who should be first? Mom and Dad in Missouri, or sister Kim in Denver?"**_ Emma looked at him blankly, silently calling his bluff. In his hand, he waved the gun around, and with one hand held it up to her eyeline, as he grabbed his cell phone and began dialing with the other.

A tear fell down Emma's cheek, astounded that things had took such a horrifying turn in the past 24 hours, trapped, in somewhere she could only imagine her dead body would sit for weeks without a passerby, not to mention with Crane's apparent connections to the Gotham PD. Emma lived alone, her family and friends were kept in touch with, but in no regular way. The Asylum? Surely he could easily craft up a story to keep everyone ignorant for some period: medical emergency, sabbatical, not handling Kevin's death well. He had crafted the perfect alibi by making them look like lovers, which was partially true, and get by until she was long dead and gone and he had effectively covered it up. There was absolutely no way to escape the room, she had examined it thoroughly.

"Get me a piece of paper." Emma's voice said quietly, in almost a whisper.

 _ **"What!?"**_ Crane said lowering the phone.

"GET ME A FUCKING PIECE OF PAPER" The words echoed off of the concrete, and she cried softly as he walked across the room with a slight swagger and opened and closed the door behind him. Moments later he was back, and Emma sat on the floor defeated, the white tank top she was left in was falling off of one of her shoulders, and her eye makeup was slightly smudged and smeared from the struggle and crying. As Crane smugly approached with a victorious smile, she wanted nothing more than to punch him squarely in the jaw.

He held out a paper and pencil, snickering, and she grabbed it and began scribbling, moments later ripping the sheet off of the pad and shoving it towards him. The paper contained three distinct formulas, each one an integral part of the combination. As Crane read it he lowered his spectacles and bit his lower lip, a quirk she had noticed a while back he did when he was deep in thought.

"Fascinating…so…intuitive," he muttered.

"So do I at least get to know why you want this so bad, if you're probably going to kill me anyway." He looked up and smiled, almost sweetly, lovingly. He set the gun down and walked over, reaching his hands out to cup her face. Emma jerked away at the contact, disgusted with herself and the situation, and scrunched her eyes closed as he tucked a strand of dirtied blonde hair behind her ear. When she finally was forced to look upon the icy blue eyes, she shuddered at the cruelty that lay behind them, eerily vacant.

"Oh Emma, I'm not going to kill you." He started placing light kisses up her neck, and sucked on an ear lobe.

"I still need a test subject." When she tried to get away from him he pushed her back and captured her mouth into a deep kiss, sucking her bottom lip lightly and then biting down on it until she tasted the coppery warm taste of blood on her tongue. Then he got up and left her there, cold and alone, hope lost.

Sometime later, the door opened and Emma cowered against the wall as she heard something slide across the floor. The lights flickered on and sitting before her was a large plate of food and a glass of water. Baked chicken, potatoes, carrots, and grapes glistened on the floor, and she felt her empty stomach lurch in response, quickly she moved over towards it and dug in to savor each bite.

When the plate had all but been licked clean, she sat down on the floor exhausted. Her eyes became heavy and her vision blurred as her eyes darted around the room, through a haziness seeing the door was open again. Crane's outline was framed in the distance, and she registered it before falling into the most pleasant of sleeps.

Sunlight hit her eyes as she slowly fluttered them open. The scenery had changed, and she now noted she was in a small room with concrete walls, in a tan twin sized bed. Although it lacked a traditional window, there was a high ceiling with a small opening at that top that let just a hint of sunlight into the room. A small simple bathroom was attached, and luckily there were accommodations for her to shower.

The thought hit her upon seeing it that with everything that had happened it had to have been at least 3 days since she last showered, and sweat and dirt was covering her hair, skin, and clothing. Without much else to do in a locked room, she ripped off her dirty tank top and dress pants and let the steaming hot water run over her bare skin. As the hot water began to give her only the slightest comfort of relaxation in the given circumstance, she had time to think straight for the first time in days.

"So what do I do now?" Once toweled off, she took to examining the room she found herself in. Several books she had been reading recently in the comfort of her own apartment were sitting on a shelf in the corner. Flickering through the pages she noticed her own handwritten notes, and dog-eared pages. These weren't just books she had been reading, these were the exact books she had been reading. Up in the corner she caught a shift of movement, noticing a security camera.

"This is what you have for me Crane? Solitary confinement?" She said aloud directed to the camera. As if in response, the door opened and Emma grasped the towel closer around her body. Crane dropped a pile of clothes onto the floor and put a plate of food on top of the shelf.

"I thought you might be hungry" he eyed her only for a second and then turned away. Hurriedly, Emma turned and threw the clothes on quickly, a long sleeve shirt and a pair of yoga pants, it hardly did much to keep her warm with the draft. The food looked amazing, but she knew she couldn't eat it, not after last time. He had said she was his test subject, after all, which meant he would be trying to drug her in any way possible with whatever he was working on. Leisurely walking over to the bed, she sat down and ran her hands along the clean flannel sheets.

"Where am I?" He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and ran one against his bottom lip to moisten it before pulling out a sleek silver lighter and burning the end. He walked around casually and took a few drags.

"Somewhere you're familiar with, but also, not so familiar with it seems." He leaned against a wall and studied her, continuing to take steady drags on his cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked, you never smell like it."

"Rarely, only when there's a reason to celebrate." He smirked and she laughed sarcastically.

"Oh, so this," she motioned boisterously to the room around, "is a reason to celebrate?"

"Do you know how long I have been watching you, waiting, planning? Do you know what kind of a mess you've made for me?" His voice was elevating, but still calmer than before.

"Enlighten me."

"Your little do-gooder formula, somehow, someway, is able to counteract the toxin I have worked for YEARS to perfect." He shook his head and opened his eyes wide in disbelief as he took another drag and scuffed his foot against the concrete floor.

"And I am so, so close now that I have funding to achieve my perfect goal."

"Toxin?" She asked dumbstruck.

"After all the years that you've studied psychology, haven't you ever wondered what kind of freedom pure chaos could rain over the world. The freedom of the mind, the power of being able to bring anyone to your mercy through nothing but intellectual means?"

"No, I haven't, because that's the ramblings of a megalomaniac." Emma sat on the bed and slid one of her legs up against her chest, biting her thumb and casually regarding him. His eyes squinted towards her.

"No, I suspect you wouldn't understand. The paltry life you choose to lead, repetitive, monotonous, deluded. Moving through mindlessly like a zombie. What a waste."

"Hmm, it didn't seem that way when I was fucking you, wouldn't you agree?" Jonathan coughed out a laugh with smoke, dropping his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out, rubbing below his lip.

"No, I suppose it didn't. Which leads me to believe there's something trapped in there," he pointed to her head and smirked, "I just need to draw it out."

"Well, it should be challenging to say the least." Her voice was resigned and disinterested.

"If you're going to keep me locked up like this, can I at least make a request?"

"You can make a request, but I'm not going to guarantee I'll grant it." He leaned smugly against the wall, crossing his arms.

"I guess that's fair. A notebook, pens or pencils, and my medications."

"What medications?"

"I have a chronic pain condition. I need to be able to manage it."

"I can agree to the first, but no pain medication, it will interfere with the trials." Emma's mouth dropped and her eyes became wide, wide in anxiety, or maybe fear? Crane only took a second to register it, before leaving her in the room to contemplate by herself.


	10. Chapter 10: I Think I'm Breaking Down

_**A/N: The next couple chapters might get a little personal/self-serving. I've struggled with endometriosis and interstitial cystitis for several years. It took a lot of doctors to finally figure out what was going on, and now three surgeries later I have some more information but no real solutions. This portion goes out to anyone out there who has a chronic pain condition, I know the battle all too well. Writing is pretty therapeutic for me, that's why you'll see a lot of my stories deal with strong willed women who are on some level fighting themselves. Enjoy, thanks for the review love, a lot of you have made my day!**_

He left her on her own for a couple of days, depositing the notebook and pencils, as well as meals, but forgoing any face to face interaction. Instead he focused on preparations, meeting with his "associates," and trying to scrub any trace of Avery's special antidote from records.

He had to admit, while it allowed him more freedom, he found himself missing their daily interactions, the witty repartee, and even just the sight of her. The days were a little more insipid, with the same sallow and stiff psychiatric staff filling up cup after cup of coffee and droning on and on about whatever new political riff was circulating through the daily news. Insufferably mundane. Sitting at his desk he steepled his fingers and sighed deeply, disappointed at himself for having such utterly human sentiments, and idly pulled up the recording from her holding cell on his computer screen.

When Crane opened the camera view and sped through the feed, he saw she hadn't moved for a few hours, curled up in the fetal position. When he unmuted the stream he heard her moaning and screaming out in agony, which was unusual given he hadn't yet had the chance to administer her with toxin yet. At a closer look, he saw a small pool of blood underneath her. With haste he grabbed his lab coat and pocketed some first aid supplies, a few vials, and a syringe, and walked with a purpose towards the elevators, turning his key to grant him access to the hidden cells below where he kept her. Shaking his head, he thought how disappointing it was that she had resorted to self-mutilation as a means for escape.

"Let me see what you've done to yourself," he admonished as he forcefully rolled her over. The blood was coming from between her legs, and she screamed out in pain.

"Please get me my pain medication."

"I don't understand." He stumbled out in a surprisingly soft tone.

"You can leave me here in disgrace all you want, just make the pain stop please!" Jonathan scrunched his eyes and stomped out of the cell, still confused by what was unfolding. He had two choices, he could either sacrifice the integrity of his experiment by providing her pain medication, or merely ignore her and let her suffer through this on her own until it was over. She had been nearly catatonic, curled up while her eyes had become vacant as a result of self-defense. He had seen it before in situations of intense suffering, the mind's way of protecting itself from the trauma. Reluctantly, he admitted experiencing the same symptoms when he was repeatedly abused as a child.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he re-entered the cell and injected her with a small dose of morphine. It was clearly visible once it quickly set in, her body slowly relaxing from its crumpled state, her breathing slowing steadily.

"I'll get you new sheets and a change of clothes." He sputtered out awkwardly, pacing out of the room. He worked his way back up to his office, clearly shaken by the ordeal. Jonathan Crane was not a man who cared for the unplanned or the unexpected, and this was certainly not what he had in mind. When he returned, he could see on the camera that she was sleeping peacefully.

The rest of the day was mostly a blur as he found himself unable to focus on anything he tried to task himself with. Instead, he searched ardently for any type of medical records on Ms. Avery, perplexed by what he had witnessed. There was hardly anything he could find, at least nothing she had reported to the administration of the asylum or with any kind of formality. He had been watching her consistently for a few months now, how could he have missed this? Scratching the back of his dark-black haired head, he walked to the cafeteria and picked up a few bottles of water and some oatmeal, paying quickly and discretely heading back down to the desolate basement.

When he opened the door, he found her awake, but still looking a little worse for the wear. She looked up at him with sad, partially hooded eyes, her knees brought into her chest on the bed. Jonathan pursed his lips and walked in, closing the door behind him, offering her the bottle of water which she took and began to sip.

"Explain." He said, trying to come off authoritative and in control, but disappointed that the words escaped more delicately.

"I have a painful disease, displaced tissues in my abdomen, coating whatever it can find, responding to hormonal fluctuations. The pain is constant, but tolerable most of the time, at times it becomes incapacitating without heavy medication." She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes a bit, then closed her eyes and rubbed her face with her hands.

"I've seen doctors, specialists, injections, had three surgeries, but still it remains. No cure, only management, acceptance, adapting. They told me it was unlikely I'd have children and there was no way to stop the increasing pain."

"And you fear this?" He slyly prodded. She moved her hands to run her fingers through her hair and shrugged.

"I regret the pain, but I don't fear it. What I do fear is failure. In this case, it is my failure to be the socially acceptable norm of a woman carrying children and being a mother. In my career, it's the failure of helping my patients, the failure of being able to physically and mentally perform to the best of my abilities consistently." Jonathan had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and placed his hands into his pants pockets.

"Well, for what it's worth, I never noticed your performance falter. I have to say that may be the most noble and reasonable fear I've encountered." As he uttered the words, he realized it was the truth.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" She laughed slightly.

"You can take it however you want." He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly.

"Well, this won't do."

"What?" She asked, only a hint of fear in her voice.

"I can't have you on pain medication and able to go through the tests, it adds an undesirable variable." A palpable silence enveloped the room, with only the sound of a trickle of leaking water echoing in the distance.

"Unfortunate, I suppose that means you'll have to kill me sooner than expected. Go ahead then, let's get it over with." Emma straightened herself upright and held her head up, making it clear that she had rehearsed this moment in the past few days of her confinement. Crane found it incredibly amusing and was half tempted to take advantage of the moment for his own enjoyment but decided against it.

"Not exactly. Perhaps a compromise then?" He walked closer to her and laced his fingers behind his back.

"Are you asking? It's not like I have a lot of other options here, in case you hadn't noticed." She motioned to the cell around her.

"Well, compared to my other test subjects, you have a previous history with psychology, pharmacology, chemistry. As I get closer to the deadline I've been given, my time gets stretched thinner and thinner…perhaps I could use you as an assistant?"

"I won't be killing anyone, if you want me to do that you might as well go grab your little gun and pull the trigger."

"You won't need to kill anyone, calculations, clerical work..." She simply nodded once and leaned back against the wall as he motioned with his hand.

"And I'll retrieve your medication and some other supplies from your apartment for you, the new sheets and clothes, but as soon as you get through this episode you'll test the serum." The last statement wasn't a question, it was merely stated as fact.

He walked out of the door, thoughts still spinning around his head, wondering what to make of this, trying to formulate a new approach as the incessant dialogue in his head came creeping back in.

" _ **You've grown soft on me."**_

 __"Oh come on, she's too valuable to dispose of right now, even you can admit that."

 _ **"Sure. That and how she loves to please us so much. What's next?"**_

 __"I don't know, this doesn't necessarily change anything, just delays it."

 _ **"Johnny you're looking at this all wrong. How long have we been waiting and watching, searching for weakness? I think you just hit the jackpot."**_

Behind his sleek glasses a glimmer sparked in Jonathan Crane's eyes as they narrowed and a smile spread slowly across his face.


	11. Chapter 11: Not Boring At All

_**A/N: Thanks for the reviews :) glad you're enjoying!**_

Emma stared at the ceiling in her holding cell. Luckily, after being provided with her medication, the pain was at much more bearable levels and she was able to sleep. To pass the time, she had alternated between sleeping, doing whatever strength training and other exercises her cell allowed her to do, and writing in the notebook she had been provided. After Crane's uncharacteristic moment of empathy, he had essentially disappeared. Rather than trying to plot some fruitless escape plan, she dedicated her time to something more logical: trying to analyze her captor, and maybe find something she could work off of.

 _Male, early thirties, highly intelligent. Poor social skills, typical of intellectual types. Shows aggressive and violent tendencies,_ _however also periodic compassion?_ No that made no sense, definitely out of the ordinary, so she scratched it out. _Preoccupied with the concept of fear, what the stimulus and result are in various circumstances. Desires organization, cleanliness, and meticulous planning, almost obsessively. Periodically shows kindness and other normal human tendencies and emotion, both sexual and social in nature._ She tapped the pencil below her lip and read back through the notes. Her description seemed somewhat contradictory, and she hit a closed fist against her forehead trying to think of what she was missing here.

Clipping footsteps down the hallway shook her back to the room, and she quickly tore the pages out of the notebook and shoved them underneath the mattress. Crane walked in the room and dropped a paper bag onto the floor next to her, which she looked into and saw a few fresh items of clothing and a set of sheets. He stood in silence with a briefcase slung over one of his arms, drumming his fingers on it impatiently and chewing on his bottom lip. He sat it down on the floor next to the bag and leaned against the nearby wall.

"I brought you a laptop and an assortment of my notes to type up and organize for me." He paused for a moment and licked his lips.

"So who the hell is Cammie Dole?" His voice said almost grumbling. Emma gulped and scrunched her eyebrows in confusion.

"Just a friend." His fist pounded against the wall and she gasped nervously.

"Well this friend of yours has started sniffing around where she shouldn't be, calling the police, getting her lawyer friends involved. Causing problems."

"What exactly is it you want me to do from here?" She responded exasperated, motioning to the walls around her.

"We have a few options, you can either call her off or I'll have her killed. Your choice?"

"Well, I'll call her off then for fuck's sake!" Emma shouted at him.

"There's no cell reception down here so we'll have to go upstairs. You'll do as I tell you." He pointed sternly at her.

"Yes." Emma's voice trembled at the premise of getting out of the God forsaken room, and she stood up rather quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly as she needed to steady herself.

"Stay close behind me, or I'll kill her anyway." Emma stayed close behind as they trailed down the stone lined pathway, dark lighting and various leaks trailing the way until they got to the elevator.

"Wait, we're in Arkham?"

"Smart girl." He closed the gate and they went up to the main office floor, when they got there, a guard was waiting patiently. Upon closer inspection, she saw it was none other than Bill.

"Coast is clear Scarecrow." He stated as Jonathan nodded to him and walked on, and when Emma made a sad look at him he merely looked down in shame. Not leaving any time to dawdle, Crane roughly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the hallway and into his office. Moving around to his desk, he opened a drawer and pulled out her cell phone, inspecting it and then shoving it towards her.

Emma took it from his hand and began to dial.

"Be convincing and don't play games."

"Cammie…hi…yeah I know I kind of skipped off the radar…oh no please don't be worried…I just needed some time away after my patient died…this one hit me pretty hard…maybe we can get lunch when I get back? Sure. Okay. Love you too." With her finger she shut the phone off and moved it towards him.

"Well, I guess we'll see if that does the trick." He said to himself, grabbing the phone and setting it back into his desk before rounding back and grabbing her again by the arm.

"Please don't make me go back to that awful cell." She pulled back against him and dug in her heels, pleading with her eyes.

"Where else do you suggest I put you?" Jonathan responded, pushing up his glasses and giving her a condescending smile.

"I don't know, but I'm going mad down there, please."

"Why should I do you _any_ favors?"

"I've done everything you've asked me, I haven't tried to escape." She got down to her knees and put her hands together towards him. He made a half smile at the gesture and scoffed.

"Show me" he said as he leaned down near her.

"What?" Emma got back up to her feet and tugged a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Show me you're serious." He stated nonchalantly.

"HHHow?" She stammered out, not sure she fully wanted to hear the answer.

"You're off the pain medication right?"

"Yes, it's been maybe a day?" He fiddled into his desk and procured a syringe full of bright green fluid.

"Lie down." Emma gulped and sat on the couch in his office, her pulse quickening in panic as she lay down and rested her hands on her stomach, closing her eyes tightly.

"Open your eyes." She opened them to find his piercing blue ones staring directly into hers. There was something she noticed there, something frightening, malicious. He tied an elastic band around her upper arm and rolled the vial around in his hands before slowly filling the syringe with the fluid. He rolled up his sleeves and looked down at his watch, noting the time, and then plunged the needle into her arm until no green fluid was left.

Emma continued to stare into his eyes, feeling warm heat travel through her veins, her vision blurring around the edges until the blue of his eyes dripped from his skull and the floor dropped out from under her. The walls decayed away from the office and Crane's figure was only a ghost in the distance. A figure appeared, large and lumbering like some sort of giant, his skin hanging from his face in raw bloody chunks, and in his hand a hook, a belt with pliers and all matters of horrifying tools. Her breathing increased and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, running through hallways and around corners, the figure gaining from behind.

" _Tell me what you see"_

"He's coming after me, please help, please!" She ran faster and the man came closer and closer until he was nearly behind her. She rounded another corner only to find the hallway abruptly ended, and she banged her fists hopelessly against the wall, the sound of deep grunting coming from behind her. The man wore an apron covered in blood and black rubber gloves, he came up behind her and grabbed her by the throat choking her as she struggled to break free. With his free hand he grabbed a pair of pliers from his toolbelt and moved his hand from her throat to her hand reaching down to her fingernails and pulling one out. The pain was blinding, horrifying, splitting, and Emma screamed out in pain.

" _What is the man doing"_

"Please help me, please!" The man pulled out another and she cried out again, the pain was too much, she felt her consciousness pull away to black, her body doing what it was able to escape the pain. A wash of relief suddenly fell over her, the pain was gone, the walls returned, and she gasped as if she had been drowning and sat up on the couch. Her breathing was still quickened and labored, and Crane sat next to her, inspecting her every move. Shaking she tried to stand up only to fall down on the floor.

"Mmm the fear is intoxicating. You're going to get yourself hurt, stay still." Crane picked her off of the floor and pulled her to stand. Instinctively in a need of comfort she pulled her face in close to his white work shirt and his arm wrapped around her back to keep her up. Tears ran down her face and moistened against him, and she could feel the comforting sound of his heart beating slowly. The adrenaline was still coursing through her body to every extremity, and she was desperate to be rid of it. His close proximity and his hard body and spicy warm smell was sending the energy lower in her body. Pulling back to face him, she grabbed the back of his head and he growled before she pulled him forward into a deep kiss. Not having full control of what she was doing, each moment of contact seemed to alleviate the lingering adrenaline rush, heightening each sensation. Emma took a few steps forward to back him up against a wall, he removed her shirt quickly and she did the same to him. His pale skin shone in the light of the night, not sickly or sallow, but glowing in a near ethereal fashion, the contrast with his dark hair making him look like some sort of God.

"Fascinating response…" He murmured as she reached down to his belt buckle and unfastened it, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down to the floor exposing him. Shoving him back on the couch, he propped himself up on his elbows as she pulled her own pants down and mounted him swiftly. Each thrust was a swell of ecstasy, a step further away from the awful nightmare that had consumed her, when she looked into his blue eyes he moaned gently in pleasure and then there was a flash of something dark before he donned a menacing grin.

"My turn." His voice slyly purred, and he hoisted her up by her ass and carried her over to the window, still buried to the hilt. She gasped as he bit into her neck and began to thrust quickly into her.

"Please, please make it go away." Her voice whispered into his ear as he groaned and bit one of her nipples, eliciting a feral moan from the back of her throat.

" _ **Oh I'll make it go away, but the fear suits you so well."**_

They didn't last much longer before they both came in the pale moonlight, collapsing to the ground. The results of her orgasm washed over her and she felt at peace, calm, and safe. He ran his hand down her hair as if he was stroking a beloved pet, wiping a lingering tear away from her eye with his thumb, and then bringing it to his lips.

" _ **Jonathan was right about you, you're not boring at all."**_


	12. Chapter 12: Drowning in the Deep

_A/N: This chapter contains Non-Con, so please skip through this one if that is a trigger or not your cup of tea_

Somewhere in the mix she had fallen asleep, likely out of exhaustion from the serum and its after effects. Jonathan sat in a leather armchair and considered her in the moonlight, her chest slowly rising and falling under a throw blanket he had draped over her.

 _ **You're getting soft, so weak.**_

You enjoy her too, nothing about the plan has changed.

 _ **The way I enjoy her is much different.**_

She's our pet, despite the experimentations and obedience, some care must be taken.

 _ **Maybe we should get her a collar and a leash then.**_

Emma's eyes fluttered open slowly, the harsh light of day burning her eyes slightly, her vision a bit fuzzy and her head feeling as though it was stuffed full of cotton. The events of the previous evening rushed back to her quickly, sending a shiver down her spine as she recounted the terrible and oh so real hallucinations the toxin had given her.

"Awake finally I see." Her eyes darted and saw him enter the cell, a smug expression painted across his perfect face, likely relishing in his victory of her compliance.

"I thought you promised if I was to comply you would get me out of here." She said quietly, an air of defeat in her tone

"And I keep my promises, I'm here to move you to slightly improved accommodations. For reasons you should well understand, I can't exactly shuffle you around the halls of Arkham back into the city. Perhaps, when I am confident I have your _full_ compliance, we can look into other options." Her eyes dropped to the floor in despair, and she folded her legs into her body while she rubbed her arms with her hands.

He approached her slowly and seemed to hesitate as he reached out to her and she began to shake involuntarily. Emma wondered why her body was responding this way, it must have been a side effect of his toxin. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she stood up and wrapped her oversized cardigan around her body tightly, grabbing the few belongings she had with her in the cell. He placed a hand on her lower back and guided her out, through the stone hallway before stopping in front of a solid door. When he opened it up, she found something much larger than her other cell.

The room was part of a spire, and the tall ceiling allowed for a small window at the top to spill in the slightest bit of sunlight.

The walls were painted and some artwork was placed, a queen-sized bed rather than the dingy twin was nestled in the corner. A book case filled with various books was pushed against the wall, and there was even a small coffee maker and refrigerator. Had one not known where it was located, it may have been able to pass off as a small apartment. By the bathroom there was a small chest of drawers, and upon opening one she found it was filled with clothes from her apartment, a peak inside the bathroom indicated some of her toiletries had also been moved. While it was still captivity, some of the creature comforts allowed more of a sense of normalcy than a bleak cell.

"What is this place." She asked softly.

"I had my…accomplices put it together for me once I started more thoroughly conducting my work. During late nights I felt it was easier to get sleep here than to try to drive back to my apartment. It tended to draw less attention that way too. Most didn't seem to notice I often lingered here after hours…except you of course." He walked over to her and lightly traced her face with his finger, and she felt herself shiver under his touch. He paused his finger where it was for a second, keeping his eyes trained on her as if inspecting a prized racehorse, a wicked gleam in his eyes as the corner of his mouth tugged up into a half smile.

"Thank you." He pressed his lips together and dropped his finger, while offering a slight nod of acknowledgement, before leaving the room. Emma rubbed her legs together and felt soreness, remembering their coupling the previous evening after he experimented on her. As much as it pained her to admit it, the blissful encounter had helped her to quickly recover from the horror he had induced, ironic as it seemed. Pausing, she nibbled on her lower lip and walked over to the bookshelf to peruse the selection. Fortunately for her it wasn't all scientific, there was some classic fiction interwoven between them, and she tenderly ran her fingers along the spines before selecting Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. How fitting.

After a delectable hot shower, Emma pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and put on a pair of sweats to relax in while she continued her book. But the calming mood was quickly shaken by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching, and Dr. Crane making his presence known.

Something was clenched in one of his hands, something that looked like a notebook.

" _ **Quite the drabbles you have here in your little journal."**_ He saw the delectable look of fear in her eyes as they widened in realization of her mistake, opening her mouth to respond but unable to speak. Perfect. That was exactly where he wanted her.

" _ **Multiple personalities**_ **, is it?** _ **So, you've got it all figured out, don't you?**_ **"** Her resolve seemed to click into place, and her eyes narrowed at him.

"You tell me, but then I'd have to ask, which one of you am I talking to?"

" _ **Maybe you should figure that out, since you're the genius, bitch**_ " Emma backed herself up against the wall as he followed her, gulping once.

" _ **Although, you ended up telling us what you fear, so, not that smart after all.**_ " He laughed as he grabbed her face and roughly pushed her head back into the wall, making her see stars as she crumpled to the floor. Once she came back to she tried to crawl out of the way but he followed, grabbing her ponytail and yanking her up to face him.

" _ **I guess it's only fitting that this is how we formally make our acquaintance, I'm the one they call Scarecrow."**_ There was a brief flash in her eyes of recognition at the name.

" _ **I've been warning Jonathan about how soft he's been treating you, but rest assured, I won't do the same."**_ He twisted her arm so she was pressed firmly against the wall and she shouted out in pain. __

" _ **We've met before, you know, probably when you least suspected it. I tend to take over when it comes to our more…carnal urges."**_ He got to her neck and bit in, hard enough to draw blood, and he ran his hands roughly over her body. His pants had already become tight as he grew hard behind her, and he pulled her back from the wall and __turned her around to face him.

" _ **Nosy little Doctor Avery, more than just a pretty face. Also, an insufferable know-it-all, we've dealt with those before, always trying to remind us how much better you are. Sometimes, you just need to be put back in your place."**_ He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pushed her down to her feet.

" _ **Open your mouth."**_ He said as he fumbled with his zipper and freed himself. He could see she was swimming in her head, eyes wide in fear as she tried to crawl away, but he was faster. Once again, he grabbed her ponytail and forced her head back, opening her mouth in the process. He took the opportunity to enter it, moaning as he began to thrust into her mouth as she gagged. Over and over he thrusted, grinning as he saw tears begin to form at the corners of her mouth.

His pleasure was cut short however, when he felt her teeth sharply dig into him and he reflexively pulled back in pain. She got up and ran to the door, which he foolishly had left open, slamming it shut and quickly sliding the deadbolt into place as Scarecrow approached and banged against it with both hands, growling like a bloodthirsty wolf. Emma ran, not knowing exactly where she was or how to get out, trying to navigate through the maze of dingy hallways, one after the other.

" _ **You can't escape me, you can run and hide all you want, and you better bet YOU'LL BE SORRY!"**_ While his voice was in the distance, it still reverberated off of the walls as her heart nearly beat out of her chest. Up ahead she heard the metallic clanging of the elevator descending. He'd probably called for backup from some of his minions. Her eyes darted around, trying desperately to fine somewhere to hide, when she spotted a small closet and shut herself in.

"Scarecrow? Where are you?"

" _ **She locked my in the cell you idiots, hurry up!"**_ The footsteps got faster and went off into the distance, and once the sound had faded she got out and ran for the elevator, slamming the door shut with shaking hands and punching the buttons. The elevator moved up painfully slowly, and she ran as soon as the doors opened, ran through the hallways, ran down the entryways, and out of the emergency exit, sending alarms sounding throughout the premises.

When she walked out into the night, she took a moment to breath in deeply the fresh air, fresh air that she had not been able to taste for weeks. The adrenaline coursing through her body sent her back to reality and her mind frantically surveyed the area for a plan. There was only one way out of here, one road, easy to police, easy to track her down once they got a vehicle. The woods and some of the old underground tunnels could buy her some time, but not much, and she didn't know the layout well enough to navigate through.

She looked over her shoulder at the water surrounding the island, sparkling in the moonlight. That was it. She would swim. It would be hard for them to track her and they wouldn't think her stupid enough to attempt it. In the night sky they could find a boat, but with the expanse it would be near impossible for them to find her. That, and Gotham University was just south of Arkham Island. Seeking refuge with one of her friends or work colleagues was too risky, but there was someone she knew she could trust there that Crane would be hard pressed to track down. It was her only chance at escape. She heard vehicles accelerating in the distance, and without much hesitation she ran towards the shorefront and dove in.

The water was cold, but she started swimming as fast as she could and it kept her body temperature at bay. Over the horizon she could see Gotham U's bell tower, enough of a target to keep her from drifting too far off with the current. When she got to the shore, it took every last grasp of energy to pull herself out of the water, but still she ran. She ran through the heart of campus, which was practically dead at that hour, and went towards the student apartments, approaching apartment 610 and knocking frantically. The door opened and a leggy dark-skinned woman roughly the same age as Emma opened the door in a simple cotton set of pajamas. Taking one look at Emma and the state she was in; her eyes grew wide in concern.

"Emma? What the hell happened to you?"


	13. Chapter 13: Devil's Crossroads

"Tamara, please help me. Let me in, and I'll tell you all about it." Tamara Fox and Emma had worked briefly together while Emma was finishing her PhD. Tam was roughly the same age, and was finishing up some graduate studies of her own at GU.

"First, you're going to warm up and take a hot shower, and I'm going to give you some clothes. She rustled around in some drawers and pulled out a gray sweatshirt and some pants, handing them to her and ushering her towards the bathroom.

The shock of the previous events of the evening, not to mention the frigid cold water she had just swam through had Emma still shivering in a mix of cold and shock. As hot water ran over her and slowly brought feeling back through her body, her brain began to warm up too. Thoughts swam around aimlessly, trying to calculate what her next move should be, but options were thin. There was simply way too much at risk to try to reach out to any of the friends she felt close enough with to trust, and that meant putting them in a dangerous spot. She could try to skip town, but she didn't have the money or means to get anywhere. That meant she'd have to try to go back to her apartment to get her id, credit cards, and cash, and even in the off chance she was able to do so undetected, Crane's contacts could easily trace her accounts.

Emma took a deep breath and came back from her head to reality, soaking wet, but much warmer, a shaking hand reached out to turn off the water. Resolve came upon her, knowing what her options were, and what needed to be done.

Once the sweats were on she went out to the main living room where Tam sat with a hot cup of tea, motioning to a second cup that sat steaming on the coffee table next to her.

"Okay so, what the hell happened to you?" Tam said, the hint of a joke in her tone, but a spark of concern in her eye.

"I'll have to give you the condensed version, because time is of the essence." Emma proceeded to relay the events of the past few months, from Crane's arrival to her escape, and her limited options.

"Listen Tam, the last thing I want to do is put you in any danger, and I know it's been a long while since we've spoken, but luckily there is very little for them to track me here. What's most important right now, is that someone with the means to protect it and use it if it's needed has my formula, and I know enough about your father that he could do that. In a perfect world, someone takes Crane down before he can execute this disgusting plan of his, but if not, I need to know I've done whatever I could to try to protect people." Tam shook her head a bit in disbelief and then sat her cup down, nodding in agreement.

"You're right, I don't blame you at all, I'm sickened this city has allowed that asshole to flourish. You know they kicked him out of here right? They found him doing some weird experiments. And yet with that on his record they still allow him at Arkham? What a joke." Emma set her cup down and looked around them.

"You have some paper and a pen I could use?"

"Sure." Tamara fished around in her kitchen and returned with a beat up spiral bound notebook and one of those mass-produced pens with a dentists' office info on it. It would do. Emma quickly but as legibly as possible wrote all components of the formula, making note of the estimated dosage she felt would counteract the effects of Crane's toxin based on his experiment with her. When she finished up, Emma stood and offered the notebook.

"Thanks Tam, for everything. I hope that stays safe with Lucius and there isn't a reason to need to use it."

"Wait, I mean, are you sure you can't go to the police? I just can't let you walk back out into that madness." There was a pleading in her eyes, one that made Emma second guess her decided plan, but only momentarily.

"There's no other choice, but really, I'll be alright. I'm a survivor." She gave a small wink to Tam and then quickly left, pulling the hoodie over her head to conceal herself a bit, and walking towards her apartment.

As she navigated the shadowy blocks, head hung low to avoid eye contact with any passerby's, it seemed no one appeared to be following her.

When she got to her apartment, it seemed untouched by the previous weeks. Paying it little mind, she went to her bedroom and changed into a nicer pair of pants and a blouse, pulled her hair up into a lazy but put together updo, and applied enough makeup to hide her sallow skin.

Once satisfied with her appearance, she opened the fridge, cringing slightly at the milk left in the back, but grabbing an unopened bottle of chilled white wine. Grabbing a few glasses, she sat down onto her couch and poured out two glasses. One glass set in front of her, and the other was set in front of the armchair next to the couch, for an unseen guest.

When she heard the distinct sound of her door unlocking, she didn't skip a beat. After all, this was what she expected. Gently closing her eyes in focus, she took a deep breath in and out and brought the glass to her lips.

"Johnathan, I've been expecting you. What took so long?" His eyes were softer, soft enough that she knew it was him and not his other half. Perfect.

"Well, someone had to run damage control after your little escape act. Unfortunately, none of my hired men are competent enough to perfectly conceal security footage. Like so many things, if I want them done right, I have to do them myself."

"What a colossal waste of your talents." Emma responded, taking another small sip of wine. She remained seating and motioned to the other glass. Crane smirked and walked over to pick up the glass, unbuttoning his suitcoat to sit in the chair.

"Doctor Avery, we simply can't have any more of this behavior. You know as well as I do what we have to do when undesirable behaviors need to be adjusted." He peered down at her over his glasses and took a sip of wine.

"It depends on your chosen approach Doctor. Aversion therapy could be pursued but the community tends to look at it negatively. CBT would be the standard. Based on your passions, I would assume you prefer the flooding approach to not only cater to your own amusement, but also stop a negative thought process."

"Bravo. Is it possible you've spent more time than I expected trying to analyze me the past few weeks?"

"It's possible." She said back with a half-smile. To an onlooker their exchange would have been considered friendly, even a bit flirtatious, definitely not one between a captor and his prey.

"I have a proposition for you." He pursed his lips and set the glass down, resting his elbows onto his knees.

"Oh?"

"Yes. You and I both know that the current arrangement has been very disadvantageous, for both of us." He crooked an eyebrow at her and leaned forward.

"I don't see it that way, at least not from my end."

"Having to man guards, food," she paused slightly, "'damage control' as you call it. Not to mention the increased questioning on my absence." Emma paused distinctly. He shifted and rested one of his hands on his chin.

"What are the proposed terms?"

"I stay here in my apartment, go back to work, as if nothing ever happened. I keep my mouth shut about your plans, your long hours. Everything."

"Well, that sounds just lovely for you, but you forget who has the upper hand here. What's in it for me?" Emma set her glass down and slowly closed her eyes.

"I remain a willing and open test subject for you, and," she swallowed, "assist with anything else you might request." Crane considered her for a second before tilting his head and nodding his head slightly.

"How do I know I can trust your word." He said, picking up the glass and pressing it again to his lips.

"You and I both know that I have no other choice. I'm a logical person not unlike yourself. I don't have the money to try to run, and even if I did, it's clear at this point how far your reach goes. You've already made it clear that you know where the people I care about are and could kill them. You could kill me right now if you wanted to." He chuckled.

"It could have been so much easier you know, had you just figured that out in the beginning." Emma clenched her fists at her side and cleared her throat.

"You killed my patient." She deadpanned.

"An honest accident."

"You have to admit you've been bored without our daily banter, you like to be challenged, given the chance to prove yourself." Emma took another sip of her glass, giving a smirk as she took delight in undressing his flaws. He shrugged.

"Do I? Well, we might as well seal the deal then. I haven't had you for myself in some time." Emma coughed and nearly spit wine out all over him.

"Are you…"

"You said you'd assist me in anything I requested. My counterpart may prefer you unwilling, but I certainly don't." His lithe fingers went to his shirt and began unbuttoning it indifferently.

"Quite frankly it's been a long 24 hours, due in part to you, and I could definitely go for some stress relief." He walked towards her and pulled her to her feet, holding her head in his hands. Emma was frightened, and she shivered at his touch.

"I suppose your time down there hasn't done much good for you, you're so much more beautiful striding through the halls full of glorious purpose." He kissed her abruptly, but his kiss was smoother, slower.

He was gentler, so much gentler than she could remember. Maybe he was right.

"Make no mistake, this arrangement comes at the cost of some of my dignity and morality." Her eyes fluttered closed as he got behind her and trailed his fingers across the purse points at her neck.

"Of course, that's what makes it all the more intriguing. Well played." She leaned back into him as he replaced his fingers with his lips, gently sucking the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulders.

And so, Emma thought, she'd sold her soul to the devil. She just hoped she would have a chance to be redeemed in the end.


End file.
